


Wherever You Are Is My Home

by IWannaDoBadThingsWithYou237



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand, Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Domestic Fluff, Duro/Diona adopt two kids..., F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Pining, Slighty AU but also mostly cannon., Threats of Rape/Non-Con, some mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2020-11-24 00:21:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 104,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20898554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWannaDoBadThingsWithYou237/pseuds/IWannaDoBadThingsWithYou237
Summary: An AU Duro/Diona fanfic. In which Duro and Agron are separated at the auction and Duro is sent to the mines, where he finds a beautiful and broken slave girl from the house of Batiatus.AU Vengeance and War of the Damned.RATED M.Regular Cannon Pairings and major Duro/Diona. Some OCs and Trigger Warnings for the whole fandom. Slight issues with language.





	1. It Was Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so here is a return to a wonderful fandom for me and I hope you all enjoy it. I love the character of Duro and Diona. I thought they were wasted characters so here is a happy ending for them. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine. 
> 
> Please give me some feedback and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Grammar and spelling are not my strongest suit. Also the language in this style of writing are not familiar to me in this story and therefore if the language is not up to scratch then I apologised. 
> 
> For some reason there has been some editing issues with this story especially the breaks in this story so I apologise I have improvised as best I can. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings included.

He had done all Agron had advised. His brother, older than him by two years had ordered Duro to stand there and to shut mouth as hands foreign to him touched him like a horse about to be put to stud. He had done that. He had held tongue and had not met eye to any of the fat fuckers in rich cloth who had stared at him as if he was an exotic animal. In turn he had no idea why man in purple cloth who ran gladiator school had wanted Agron and not him. He too could fight. He too had been involved in foreign wars and he too could fight in any arena and kill his enemy. His tribe had taught him that much before he had even had whisper upon chin.

But he had not been chosen, he had been chosen to be sent to mines. Duro had felt Agron stiffen next to him and he knew with instinct akin to fighting what brother was preparing to do.

_“Save yourself foolish attempt brother. We cannot both be taken from this life. You can win in the arena…and we will see each other again” _

Duro thought that a look so full of anguish as seen upon his brother’s face at that moment was such that he would never forget sight. His last sighting of Agron had been his brother’s green eyes filled with tears as they were separated. Duro had not been telling a falsehood. He knew with certainty that he and Agron would see each other again. In this life or what was more likely…the next.

The cart to mine was nothing more than a square. It would struggle to fit one person of health and height and weight never mind the seven that were crammed in there alongside him. Duro found knees pressed up against chin and his hands chained before him wrapped around them. A guard was in cart with them. Duro had known many a passage since being forced from tribe and homeland. Never had he known one like this.

Next to him there was a noise of such small volume he thought imaginings had taken him. As much as one could he turned head to see what was next to him…or who was in cart next to him. The small thing was pressed up against his arm between him and older man who would not Duro thought survive long attempt at hard labour.

Little thing had head on knees and face was covered by long hair dark and matted. It took Duro moment to realise that it was a child. A girl child…and one who could not be older than eleven.

The thought that child was being sent to mine was enough to make blood in veins boil. Not for first time Duro wished for the cold hard steel of sword to be placed in hand. Of all the people…_no_…of all the _slaves _around him he was the one who looked heathiest and he could not remember time when he had eaten proper meal or had proper drink.

The guard, a most unpleasant shit (and Duro had met more than his fair share of men of that nature) eyed the small girl next to him. Without even meeting gaze she let out a small whimper and tightened arms around knees. Duro felt something deep within chest twist at the sight of her. He lifted his knee as much as one could in such cramped conditions and shifted it so that the girl was hidden behind it. Slowly he reached out as if approaching wounded animal and touched her on shoulder.

Two eyes beneath a face full of dirt stared at him. Those eyes were a brown and were surrounded by thick lashes and that was all of face Duro managed to gleam. The rest was awash with dirt and blood dried and crusting at the temple. He felt without warning another swoop of rage at treatment of child who had, he had no doubt committed no crime worthy of such punishment. Duro would imagine it would be warrior with heart of stone who would not offer tentative smile to the little thing even if she gave nothing in return but a gaze of complete and utter confusion.

The guard smacked his sword into side of cart and immediately the moment was gone as girl dropped eyes again. Duro shifted a little to her side. Weather it was the fact that he had protected her from gaze of guard or because she was too tired to stop after pause, she rested head upon his arm. Duro leaned back himself feeling the bars of the cage dig into head and shoulders back and legs screaming in protest over cramped conditions. He felt a wave of such melancholy hit him that he found he was blinking back tears. Duro was a warrior of the Lands East of the Rhine. He was not a man to be overcome by a sentimental moment but he could not see a way out of current predicament that would see him with Agron again. His brother would face death in the arena. Duro would face it underground. This girl would last little more than week in the mines.

How long they were trapped in their Duro did not know. Time became a foreign concept. The girl did not speak but she did lean on him more as time continued. He found that to be a comfort he had not expected and at that point Duro knew that situation was pretty fucking dire if he was dependant on the comfort of an eleven year old girl.

However painful this journey was it was inevitably drawing to it’s end. Duro knew it and found himself torn between desire for journey to reach final peek or terror over what would happen to him when it did. His muscles had not had chance to recover from whence he was shoved into cart in first place and his knees went out from under him when he climbed out leaving him scrabbling around in dirt like undignified animal and standing on legs weaker than a newborn babe.

The girl climbed out after him. She was now he could see her a miniature all bone and skin and dark eyes. Duro now knew initial suspicions to be correct. The girl would not last until end of next moon before death came to claim her. Perhaps that was a kindness for sure, he thought looking around the mines with a sense of despair, the gates of Hell had to be better than wherever the Gods had sent him to.

She huddled a little to side of him as Guards spoke to themselves. Duro shifted again so that girl was hidden half from sight. What possession made him contemplate this course of action he did not know but he felt something again in chest take hold. This child had not deserved to end up here. Duro had blood on his hands from wars and from sport, he held no illusion that he deserved death weather it was in mine, arena or battle. This child on the other hand did not deserve any of this, she deserved nothing but hot meal, hot bath and warm bed.

“Come” he said quietly when Guards began to grab slave in front of line and force them towards the opening’s built into wall. He felt the chains still pull at his wrists as they were moved forwards. He saw the chains come off as they were pushed under the rock and into darkness.

His leg which had been stiff and sore due to months held hostage on ship and a journey to this place where cramped conditions had not allowed movement for days, sent throbbing pain forcing his hand to rock so that he could lean against the stone for a brief respite. Before he could so much as take breath he received a hit on shoulder that sent him to floor. He groaned feeling mud hitting face. He saw out of corner of eye girl step backwards as if she prayed to the Gods that she believed in that she could blend into wall.

It was for her and the look of pure terror that was etched onto the face of a child that forced him back to feet and moving so he was placed in front of her blocking her from view of Roman cunt. He had seen too many children of tribe and former tribes of his country look like that, orphans and warriors who had seen parents and then brothers and sisters go to war and not return. He had broken news to more than one that they were all alone in this world and he had seen more than one be enslaved by the same men who had taken him and Agron.

They too were now doomed to the same pointless death that this girl was facing.

“Move fucking shit” the guard said pushing him forwards. Duro stared at him for a second more and then carried on down the tunnel girl pattering along behind him her bare feet slapping on sharp rocks.

The mines were consisted of tunnels that were packed close together. Water and mud dripped down from the walls and into puddles on the ground. People were crowded into small little alcoves. The mud came up to knees and seemed to stick to you as if a second skin. There was no light, no chance to stop, no fresh air and no way out.

Duro had observed many ways that death could claim a man. This was not how he had thought death would come to claim him. there was no way out of this place unless Agron could win freedom for them both and he knew that Agron could never do that.

He found small spot in corner of wall where it looked like there was a small gap between whatever was being mined and pressed girl into small spot. She went willingly enough but still she was staring at him with those eyes that expressed all the emotions that had gripped Duro since he had been put to cart. He supposed he had been right in one sense. It would take man with heart of stone to turn this thing away.

“Greetings” he said softly and feeling like an stupid fuck for trying for what did it matter?

“I am Duro from Land’s East of the Rhine. What is your name?”

For a heartbeat the girl stared at him and then she spoke and it was in a voice of such quietness that Duro had strain ears to hear her.

“Freyja”

Well it was a start.

“And of what year are you Freyja?”

“Eleven”

Duro muttered under breath in language of his own people. Eleven was practically a babe when it came to horrors in these tunnels of rock, mud, destruction and death. He felt another pick hit the wall next to him and he knew that they must move further inwards to avoid discovery of idleness by guards. He decided to be truthful.

“Freyja we must move from here. I do not know what events will see us free from this path or if life will end here but I think that we are safer together? Can you follow me?”

Freyja shot one look of doubt towards the darkness and then nodded.

Duro propelled the girl towards an entrance into another tunnel and she followed him through the many toils. He noted rats and spiders alongside slaves who were so far into their own personal torment that there was nothing that could free them. He noticed an upturned body that had sunk partially into mud and pressed Freyja behind him so she did not have to see.

Finally they came upon place that looked good to rest. There was a small patch of sunlight showing from the smallest of slits in the rock and he noticed a gate alongside far wall which would if needed give them purpose to sleep. There were woman there in the mines working and only one gazed at him as he forced his knees to once again adjust to the cramped space. He tried to catch gaze as if to let her know that he was not there to cause pain or suffering but exhaustion had finally crept up on him like soldier on sleeping lookout.

“If we are to survive this we will have to eat and sleep in turns” he said quietly. “And to do that I need to sleep. Can you stay awake for me and let me know if there is any happenings, if Guards come by I want you to shake me out of slumber”

Another nod. Duro leaned his head against bars and after a heartbeat he felt girl…no…Freyja curl up next to him her eyes on women with intent gaze.

Duro felt a great pang of pain for how this story would end for this girl and then felt like smiling at what Agron would say if he knew he had adopted child before even leaving cart…he closed his eyes and when an uneasy sleep came to take him, exhaustion pulling him under and a small girl pressed to his side it was with brother’s brilliant green eyes staring at him and the knowledge that weather it was in this life or in the one that followed, Duro would see Agron again.


	2. Good Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duro and Freyja try to survive the mines. 
> 
> Duro meets a slave girl from the House of Batiatus who is still scared but yet shares a moment with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter. I really want to thank all of you for kudos and for commenting with the first chapter it means more than I can say.
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing other than the two children in this story are mine. The rest belong to Starz and to History. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. As always grammar and spelling are not my strongest suit and also this type of language. I am learning but it takes some time. 
> 
> Also again the plot develops in following chapters, right now this story is heavily AU. The chapters will become more cannon as we go along. 
> 
> And I will try and update sooner rather than later.

How long he had been forced underground to mine rock and mud in the hope of finding something…anything…that Romans could use Duro did not know. He had found nothing of worth yet and he was beginning to understand that survival depended on finding something of worth and soon.

Had it not been for little Freyja he imagined that they would already be dead. She was proving adapt at steeling food and water. She would disappear whenever she needed too touching his arm and coming back an hour later with whatever she could find, bread, a sausage once and once two skins of water that Duro had buried in mud so that they could save it for future. He had no idea where she had gained such gifts nor did he want to ask. Her look…prideful and pleased when opportunity presented self was something that Duro could not take from her when world had taken away so much.

They had fallen into something of a comfortable relationship where they could work as little as dared and hide as much as possible. He knew he was getting weaker…he knew that she was getting weaker. Most of the food that he could spare went to Freyja though he did not know why. Paternal feeling was not something Duro was used too. He’d had little to no connection with his own father. Agron had been more of father to him than his own. He did not spend time with children. He did not know how to be with children.

And yet when thought struck him of Freyja alone in this darkness…

He found that at night when she slept that girl curled up next to him as if cat. Head on chest and he wished that she was anywhere else but here. And yet he thought that he would struggle to survive without her. Duro and Freyja had found common bond and it had encouraged him to live beyond necessity. To hope for Agron to return. Thinking on it scared him but he found that despite lack of air, food, water and other things so long as she was breathing when she slept through night and woke up when dawn crusted that little break in rock to show them sky then he could live to see another morning. If this was what fathers thought when they saw babe for first time then…well…

Then he was fucked.

Time moved slowly. They existed and nothing more. He kept her hidden from heavy tramp of boot that indicated guards and for the first seven days or so did not speak a word to anyone. By the second week he found that he was able to move away from secluded corner and into main mud pit.

One morn he woke up to find Freyja gone. It was not an uncommon occurrence. She had did that and while he would prefer she name her intention to go he was not surprised by lack of waking. He had been exhausted on night prior. It still did not help worry from forming in belly. There was little light and most of the walls caked in mud. The few women who had survived were hacking away but he noted one woman who was watching him in darkness.

He crawled closer wincing as knees found sharp rock. Palms were already scratched and muddy. He was afraid to look at own reflection. Duro suspected that warrior of Lands East of the Rhine had gone and he knew that he would not like who he saw, starved and haunted by passage, grief and fatigue and the overwhelming desire to make sure child outlived him.

Gods above what he would not do for the oblivion that came with wine. Even for moment of peace from demons that had resided in his head.

“Have you see Freyja?” He asked quietly moving towards rock the woman was staring at in case of approaching guard. Woman caught his eye and Duro took stock of how very blue her eyes were even underneath mass amounts of dirt and dust and then he slid a little closer. She was wearing the rags of a woman who had been down here for long years and Duro who was (as Agron had told him with cuff to back of head many times) not the romantic in family felt sudden urge to take the beautiful woman and lay the world at her feet. He swallowed feeling like boy on cusp of becoming man and when he spoke his voice was dry though that could be because of lack of water.

“Have you seen my daughter, have you seen my Freyja?”

Of course Freyja was not his daughter but Duro supposed a little lie would not hurt in this moment. And anyway, anyone that had seen them together would come to same conclusion. In fact if honest with self (deep, deep down) then he too would not run from same conclusion.

“She has gone” woman muttered in undertone. “She left for food and water and I sent her to see if she knew where other children were. You see other children are kept in different shaft of mine, my daughter is there. Forgive me but my child…” she turned her face to wall and shuddered silently with sobs and Duro thought that it would take a man with no heart to look upon her with anything but compassion.

“I could kill her” he muttered softly.

The woman let out giggle that was reflected of sharpness.

“She but loves her father and wants to ensure that he is well looked after.”

Duro smiled but inside his stomach was turning over and over. The woman reached out and touched his arm. “I am sure she will be of all alright. She is young girl, she knows her way back to you I am sure.” There was a long pause where she crouched their and Duro saw a lock of dark hair that was lank and covered in mud fall across her face. He reached out to pull it back to see face of the beautiful woman and she jerked away as if touch burned. She shifted on both legs away so that her back was pressed against rock and Duro as if watching animal trying to strike watched her. He could see the fear in her eyes and he knew…without even having to know story that what had happened to the most beautiful woman who he had clapped eyes on.

Rape.

It was an ugly word and one Duro had seen applied to many a woman in tribes across old land. He had seen a number of women attacked by soldiers both or Roman kin and other kind and he had seen girls and women hide in fear of any soldier including ones that they might have known and recognised as kin. He knew what he was looking at when he looked this woman in the eye.

He retracted hand as if it had caused burn.

“I apologise” He said into the silence. “I apologise. I did not mean to cause upset. I just want to know when you think that my daughter will return”

The woman regarded him with gaze for a long time before she spoke.

“I appreciate that thought. I believe daughter will be back soon. And if you want to fuck me then you will not be the first. I just now spread legs for food rather than because my fucking Dominia asks me too”

Duro blinked away the dust and the mud and the exhaustion that was pulling at him when he thought upon those words. He fought against the rage and the pity and the knowledge that came with those words, the fact that the woman seemed to be of the same years as him and yet so much older than he was.

“Apologies” he said feeling small…and underfoot, in way he had not believed possible since he and Agron were small and running underneath their mother sending her into the waves of madness and beyond as she would say.

“I did not mean to offend or to cause distress. I only wished to…to…well…If we are to spend time down here in these mines then we must be able to get along. My child is all I have…you have said you have child of your own. I do not wish to cause harm, this…area of mine is safe, I would see us both here until further notice, hidden from glance.”

There was pause as woman gazed at him as if trying to sense his desire. In that moment though Duro was thinking not of her (though he had feeling that thoughts would drift to her sooner rather than later) but off the girl he had come in such short space of time to depend upon, who was somewhere in this place looking for food to keep them both alive.

“Apologises. I too am used to harsh treatment. My name is—Diona”

Duro took in silently without commenting on the pause that came when she said name, as if she had to think for a second to recall it. He felt a swoop of hot anger run through him—like he had done when he had seen Freyja for the first time curled into a ball hiding in plain sight. He tried to smooth face of emotions and stuck hand out in custom of new greetings from his people to outsiders of their tribe.

“Greetings Diona, my name is Duro from Lands East of the Rhine”

Diona stared at him for a pause and then reached out and wrapped her small and bony fingers that Duro imagined had once been used for delicate work around his own callused ridden hands bruised and blistered from work and sword and shield. Diona gave him a small twist of mouth that Duro thought he could accept as smile and then there was the sound of tramping coming down narrow passageways that told him that guards were coming and that if they had any fucking sense they would need to hide.

He grabbed Diona by the upper arm and moving with speed crossed the tunnel to the hidden alcove where he and Freyja had been hiding. Half of the rock jutted out and half faced the wall creating a barrier where the two of them could hide away from sight. Of course it was different when it was two adults as opposed to man and child. Diona in an effort to stay hidden was pressed to his chest in a way that ensured that he could feel every inch of her beneath mud splattered rag. Her knees were splayed over his and he could feel her breath on his cheek. Duro was suddenly…_very_…aware that this was first time he had been in close contact with a woman since the war that had seen him and Agron captured by Romans and sent across the sea in chains.

They huddled together out of sight listening to the guards taking swings at the slaves that they felt were lacking in their work. He could hear the scream of one woman dragged up to the surface to be used as base entertainment. He closed eyes and tried not to let even breath escape him. He found that he was praying that Freyja did not reappear and find herself subject to Guards attention. She was a child.

He, once a proud warrior huddled in the mud next to Diona who seemed to scarcely breathe. Finally it seemed that guards moved on and Duro after another beat let his hands on Diona’s waist go lack and loose. She slid off his lap and onto the muddy rock her hands over her face rocking a little as the fear wore off. Duro watched her and wondered just what had happened to this woman to turn her into this.

He slid a little down the mud so that they were face to face. She watched him like hawk and then after she realised what he wanted and that he was off no harm to her she crawled a little into his arms. Gently he brushed some dirt of her shoulder and held her close feeling his own muscles tremble at how near they had come to being discovered.

He could practically hear Agron’s voice in head.

_“First lost children…and now lost woman…brother…really?”_

He could almost smile at how that voice in head sounded.

And still Freyja had not returned from wherever she was.

Duro clung to Diona a little bit more than she was clinging to him and found himself wondering for the first time weather or not it would be a kindness for death to claim him now rather than when he was a man wasted away by neglect and the cruelty that came with the Roman lash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you are. I hope you all enjoyed. 
> 
> All feedback is adored.


	3. Losing Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst trying to forage for food and escape danger, Freyja stumbles across another child. 
> 
> Duro and Diona meanwhile worry for their girls and start to become better aquatinted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter. This one again is a bit more background. There will be one more chapter dealing with Duro/Diona on their own and then Naevia joins them and the plot moves a bit towards Vengeance. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing but Freyja and Cecelija is mine. 
> 
> Also this style of writing is taking some getting used to. I hope I eventually will get used to it but right now it might be a bit disjointed. 
> 
> Also spelling and grammar are not my strongest suit. My apologies for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> And I will try and update soon. As always Trigger Warnings for...well...everything.

The tunnels of the mines inter-crossed and intersected at every way creating a wide maze of tunnels. Twice Freyja had lost way on path and had to double back and she had, had to duck into small corners to hide from the guards. She had no ideals about where she was or that every being in this place was trying to survive just as she was but she would be damned if Duro…if the one being in this world who was offering her a small grain of hope of survival had to eat then she would get the food for him.

She forced self back onto path. She had managed to snag two pieces of bread and she was in search for some meat when she had been forced to duck down in a space not much bigger than she was. Her hand slipped this time however and Freyja found that grip had loosened and she was sliding down into another cavern of mud and dust. She heard a whimper behind her and turned instinct directing her towards light. There was someone else blocking it.

Another girl.

She was of an age younger than Freyja though only by a small number of years. Her whole body was trembling with sobs her hand clasped over her mouth and her eyes wide in her small face. She had dark hair too Freyja noted though her hair came to just below chin and was so matted with mud that Freyja could not see weather or not it was of a browner colour or a darker one. Her eyes too were brown but her arms were of the consistency of twigs found upon ground.

“Hello” the girl said softly.

“Hello” Freyja said her voice on guard. The bread was long gone into the abyss of mud and shit but that did not mean that even child such as this did not have alternative motive. She had seen that from her week in the mines. She had seen more than that from time here. She would never forget what she had seen here. Children were just as opportunistic as the adults.

“My name is Cecelija”

Freyja took that in for a moment and then nodded.

“My name is Freyja. We need to scramble back upwards Cecelija until we can see light again. We need to do so now rather than cower waiting for mud to become final resting place. Move”

She spoke harshly to the girl not much younger than she had been, perhaps a bit more harshly than she would have done but she remembered the house slave of her old place of residence and how she had spoken to slaves. She quickly banished all thoughts of a warm bath, steam rising from the waters and rose petals scattered amongst them, banished all thoughts such of food and water and a place to lay head at night. Of clean and fresh air breaking face like much needed relief. Right now the murky air that permeated Mines was the best that they could get.

Once the two of them had crawled back to surface. Freyja looked around. She thought that perhaps that she had come one way and she should go back. There was no bread, no meat, nothing and she found that she wanted Duro. She wanted arms of one man that she trusted around her in gentle embrace. She wanted to curl up her head on his belly and sleep and know that he would be there watching her and watching out for her.

Cecelija however had decided to follow her. Freyja carried on walking praying to the Gods that girl would just take hint and lose herself amongst the other children in the Mines.

“Why do you persist in following?” she asked when she could bare it no longer. “Why do you persist in bring danger to my…peace and prosperity?”

The girl said nothing for a long time and then when she spoke Freyja noticed that her accent and pronunciation of the words was almost impeccable. She had been taught Latin by a woman who had spoken it for years. “My mother was separated from me. I escaped after one of my friends drowned in mud” There was a pause where Freyja imagined drowning the mud she was already up to her knees in and then she shuddered unable to stop herself. But the girl continued speaking with such a tone that it told the eleven year old that the eight year old was used to this sort of treatment at rougher hands than Freyja had ever known and she had known some harsh treatment.

“I want to go back. I know where it is, she lives and works somewhere were you live and work. But I lose way easily. So I need to follow you”

“Well I do not know if I can get back there in time before guards discover departure” Freyja said guardedly. Though if truth were told she was less worried about what guards would do and more about what Duro would do once he had discovered that she was gone.

“I know. But you can at least show me way” the girl said squaring her shoulders. A part of Freyja desperately wanted to say that no, she could not show her the way because she had bigger worries about but before she could she heard the sound of tapping on the rock—a sign that the guards were coming, one slaves way of warning another of impending danger. She swallowed bitterly and felt the terror pulse in her veins. She held out hand and Cecelija took it and the two of them were soon running through the mud like two ghosts and down passageways avoiding both guards and slaves alike.

Freyja slipped and felt her knee and her face bang against the harshness of the rock. For a second she saw stars beneath her eyelids and the stickiness of the blood on her face and she thought that she too would drown in the mud. The thought sent such a wave of horror down spine that she wanted to curl up in a ball and let the guards take her. Cecelija sat down next to her and pulled at her shoulders.

“Freyja. Freyja please we must go”

Freyja staggered to her feet and she threw up a little on the walls of cave. Cecelija wrapped an arm around her waist and though the tears were flowing fast and furiously down her face she forced herself to move forwards even though she didn’t want to. She knew where she was going even if she did not know which way her feet were going.”

They staggered about until Freyja wiping blood off her face and watching it join the mud that was sucking her knees down, realised where they were. She staggered downwards again and then she forced herself upwards and dragging Cecelija forwards until they slid through the hole that led to the group of slaves that Freyja had come to recognise.

Before she could so much as take a gasp of air to form words to Cecelija that they had arrived at intended destination a hand had snaked out and grabbed her, her arm and pulled her down to floor hard. For a moment she stared in bewilderment before she saw Duro his face furious. Without so much of one word between them he pushed her into the darkness of space and then pushed Cecelija in afterwards. There was a woman there, her face dark with mud but her eyes when she saw Cecelija were filled with some sort of burning emotion that Freyja had never seen before and she turned expecting to make some comment of sorts to Duro only to find that his own eyes were burning with that same emotion.

What had transpired here before she had arrived Freyja could not have imagined. She did not want to think about what had happened, nor that he and the woman who clearly knew Cecelija. All she cared about was that while Cecelija was being crushed against breast of woman who clearly knew her she was being held by man that she had come to trust above all others.

And that man was Duro.

Duro and Diona had spent hours hiding behind crevice of rock. Guards seemed to be patrolling this area of mine more than before and Duro was not going to give a Roman cunt an excuse to give him a beating. He still had one hand on Diona’s waist ready to throw them both to ground and hide beneath the mud coating the floor. He tried not to think of what he had become reduced to. Or where Freyja was. The thought of losing that girl who had in such short time burrowed his way into his heart was beyond paralysing. Duro had lost more than most men in his time gifted by Gods. He was unsure if he could lose more.

Not in this place.

He found that his breath was coming in short gasps as he tried to regain control of emotions that had gotten out of hand. Diona next to him got hold of arm and dug her nails into skin deep. The pain cleared head somewhat and he found that he was breathing easily once again. There was a pause as he gained control and then he turned to her.

“Gratitude”

Diona offered tentative smile. She did not look Duro thought, like a woman who had smiled much in short life.

“How did you come to be here?” he asked hoping to engage in conversation as they waited for either danger to pass or for girl to come back. Either way he needed to take mind away from dangers both outside this little rocky alcove and in his mind.

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say. The small smile on Diona’s face disappeared. She looked down at her hands and as Duro went to brush a lock of hair stuck down with mud she flinched away curling in on self like frightened child afraid of violent hand. Duro watched her with eyes that he knew were wide.

“Apologies” he said dropping hand to floor and curling it around rock. “I did not mean to cause alarm”

Diona looked at the cliff rock and then down again her eyelashes fluttering against her mud stained cheeks.

“No” she said finally. “It is not you. I have only known you a short time and I know that you are not the kind of man to cause unnecessary hurt. I am used to men…one man…who would cause hurt because he could. Because I was slave and he was Roman” her mouth gave a twist at memories Duro suspected that were far from pleasant.

“Or as I was told, because my cunt was _tighter_ than a fellow slave”

There was a silence as Duro began to process this information. He found he was furious that woman was treated as such and yet sad as well. In fact there was a mixture of emotions running through him coupled with the ever present desire to sleep, to eat, to drink, to breath in clean air and to see Agron again, to know if Freyja was safe. He found that the weight of this pressed down on him like brand.

“I have no words” he said finally.

“Oh I have no use for them” Diona said waving one hand and whispering in the darkness not that anyone cared about their conversation.

“But here I am. I ran away you see and though I was expecting death my sentence was commuted to here. I would have preferred death, if it not for Cecelija I would have lost mind here already”

“Who is Cecelija?”

“My daughter. The Roman who raped me…I did not realise until I went into labour believe it or not. I hid her here. I raised her here, I fed her milk here from my tits and I have done best to hide her from guards. We will not be parted even though she goes to work in different station. She comes back”

Duro tried to imagine what it was like to give birth and raise child here. After three weeks he was finding strength depleting. But he found that knowledge of what was keeping her alive was not new to him. Duro suspected that had Freyja not come into his life he would have given up by now. Already he could sense he was losing his battle hardened body to hunger and weakness. The muscles and the strength that had kept him strong in battle. He was becoming as weak as old man or child.

“I am amazed you managed to keep your own child with you” Diona said continuing conversation. Duro opened his mouth to tell her that Freyja was not his child and that she was mistaken but he shut it again. Truth was a rare commodity. He was not going to share it now, even though he felt like he could trust Diona he would not share until he knew it was safe.

“Yes” he said quietly. “My brother was sold elsewhere, I was condemned here. I do not know why, I am warrior too, I could fight in Arena for the same house he was sold too”

Diona smiled at him again. “The decisions of the Gods are mysterious things” she said finally.

“The Gods are a fucking pain in arse” Duro replied, Diona choked on her laughter coughing a bit spitting out a mouthful of saliva onto muddy floor.

There was a commotion by entrance which Duro was glad off because in that moment he might have done something he later would regret. He peered around rock to see a small child slid down the mud and land in a heap. Another one did same thing. He noticed with a pang of relief that it was Freyja and another child. His hand shot out of its own accord and he grabbed both of them throwing them behind rock out of harms way of guard.

He noticed Diona pulling other child into lap and he realised that it was her daughter. He shook his head. Sometimes the Gods did indeed grant small mercies.

Freyja was bleeding for head wound and her confidence that had kept him going on some dark days seemed to be shaken. She took one look at him and then burst into tears. Looking at her in this moment it was clear to see that he had asked too much of her. She was eleven and he had her running around mines looking for food. He shook his head at own stupidity pulling her close.

It did not matter that she had not brought back food. What mattered was that she was alive. It was no lie he had told Diona, in the past few weeks she had indeed become his daughter. It was the knowledge of almost losing her that had brought him to right conclusion. He pressed kiss into messy, muddy hair and rocked her back and forth the way he had seen mother do with him and Agron when they were just small babes.

It did not matter what Romans had taken from him, he decided, there and then he would be damned if they would take this from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering yes Cossuitius is the father of Cecelija. 
> 
> Feedback is adored.


	4. Broken Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duro and Diona grow closer as they accept their fate in the mines.
> 
> A new arrival causes a stir. 
> 
> THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M. 
> 
> Last chapter before cannon plot begins. 
> 
> Takes place two to three months after events of last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the beginning of the cannon part of this story. I hope to portray Duro and Diona's desperation at knowing despite what they feel for each other they are going to die. 
> 
> There is a gap between this chapter and the next like in the series when you go from one episode to the next and realise that someone is with someone.
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing but Freyja and Cecelija are mine. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Spelling and Grammar are not my strongest suit but I do apologise for the inaccuracies. Also I do apologise if the language is inaccurate. It has been a long time since I have tried my hand at this.

Time moved slowly but it moved. His life went on against all odds flowing against the tide and he wanted nothing more to do on some mornings but to float away with it. Duro was beginning to accept that there were some mornings when he would have greeted death as a friend. He was exhausted and week and he found that exhaustion pulled at bones in body, digging under his skin and taking root where once life had flourished.

He had accepted it he realised one morning when week from hunger he had struggled to open eyes. He had come to point where he had accepted that death was coming for him ad that he would not die the glorious death on the sands that would have been preferable, Agron was not coming for him, his mother and father were dead, his brother lost to him, he was alone in a sea of complete destruction.

Deep down he knew that had it not been for Freyja he would have forced a fight with guard and would have had his glorious entrance into the lands of the dead before sun had come up.

But he had a daughter. For that was another bitter truth he had to reconcile himself to. Freyja was his daughter, she was the only child that he would ever have. She was the saviour in the darkness and the light that kept him going on the days where he would happily lay his head down and hope to never again wake up. But she too was suffering. She was getting thinner, her eyes were getting darker, there was an edge of desperation too her that told Duro his girl would not last long in this place. Already death was stalking her and it was all he could do to keep it at bay so that he could keep his salvation with him just a bit longer.

Diona was also becoming another light in the darkness. She had a core of iron, of steel that kept them going. How she had survived eight long years in this place he would never know but she had. She was all bones and skin, she confessed her monthly courses had stopped long ago. She acknowledged to him in private that she believed she could have no other child than Cecelija because her tits were now so small she doubted they could produce milk. She confessed that while she loved Cecelija with all her heart she had longed for a child with man she loved rather than with her rapist.

When she said things like this Duro would despite warning reach out and curl his arm around thin shoulders and Diona despite flinching first time would now lean against him as they lay in the mud and talked about life that they wanted and hopes that were now dashed in the mud. The children slept with them when they could and Duro would wake sometimes to the absurd notion that he was a father in his homeland, with house and title and respect, a beautiful wife on one side of him and two little girls, the promise of more children on the horizon and a bountiful of food and water.

They hide by day and by night they talked. Gone had the work that they had to do. Guards no longer came by this passageway and Duro suspected that had something to do with the fact that gold was not being found this deep in the mines. Freyja had gone exploring again and had confessed that iron gate barred the only way out of mines that was unguarded and Duro had not the strength anymore to fight his way free.

And that was another heartbreak for him to bear. He had lost his strength, he had lost the battle-hardened body he had fought so hard to gain. He had lost the muscles that he had gained and the strength in his stomach, the coil of strength in his legs that were as week as newborn babe. He had lost the pride he had in himself now forced to beg and scrabble in the mud for crust of bread. He found that the pride in himself as a man and warrior installed in him by his father a great man and warrior himself, was going and nothing could compensate for that loss.

“Oh you get used to it” Diona said one day as they laid together in the mud her head on Duro’s arm the children guarding them. “You get used to the loss of it all. You become someone else.”

Duro shook his head. He knew he could not get used to this.

Diona turned to look at him then her elbow sinking into the mud.

“I am glad I got a chance to have this” she said once one long thin finger brushing over his face. “A chance for companionship with a man that won’t hurt me or use me. It is something I never thought I would receive in this life.”

“You think it’s companionship do you?” Duro asked his smile genuine. He thought it was something else. Already he knew what this was and he was surprised by the strength of his own feelings. He had never been the type to lose heart easily unlike Agron who’d had more lovers in old life than Duro had had decent meals but he knew what he was feeling for this extraordinary woman who had strength of lion in her and eyes that sparkled despite pain that had been thrown upon her.

“You do not?” Diona asked.

“No. I think this is love”

Diona pushed herself up to gaze down at him surprise colouring her face. Cecelija and Freyja had been in the process of going to sleep and her hand came out without looking to smooth down the mass that was Freyja’s hair who immediately complied and laid head down again on arm her eyes fluttering closed.

“You do?”

“I do. I think we found each other in place unimaginable and that I lost heart to you, to your strength and your beauty and your care. I think that these girls are our children. They will be the only children that we ever have I imagine and that we found something even when there was nothing to be found. I have lost heart to you. And death is stalking us so I do not care about telling you that I love you Diona with all that remains of me, broken man that I am”

Tears came to those eyes that Duro had grown to love and Diona looked away her hair on her shoulder matted with mud where once Duro could imagine it had shone like the night sky. He reached out and touched her shoulder softly.

“I know you are not ready to be loved as man loves his woman, as a good man with honour should treat the woman he adores. I know that you have been handled by rough hands and if I could I would kill them all. But I cannot. I can only tell you what I feel before death comes to claim me. I can only hope that you feel same and that we can live out remaining days with each other. And if the Gods are good to us and there is a life outside of this place then when you are ready I will show you how you should be loved, how you should be touched, how I long for you. I will show you desire and freedom and honour. If you would let me.”

Diona turned to look at him wiping her fingers over her face to remove evidence of tears.

“I am broken beyond repair” she confessed her voice hitching on sobs. “You deserve better than me”

“No” Duro said his hand coming around her head so that they were face to face again lying in the mud.

“You are the woman that I have come to love and respect and that deserves more than me. And we are both broken, there is no shame in being broken together. As my father used to say two broken pieces can make a whole”

Diona let out a small giggle. “I do love you” she confessed her voice small. “I do dream of a life outside with you. It has been months since you and I have made acquaintance and I find each day I have grown to love and trust you. I feel as if I am girl in Ludus again where I was stupid enough to long for a man’s touch and thought that I would be treated gently. It feels like I have been waiting for you and know Gods can call me to their own”

Duro pulled her close and pressed kiss on her head. Diona sat back up again and kissed him softly, her mouth was as light as a feather and Duro groaned a little as her tongue found her way into his mouth and she shifted a little so she was sat on him. Had they not been in passageway surrounded by other sleeping slaves with only a rock to shield them and two sleeping children nearby he would have laughed at fact that hardness growing beneath him proved somethings still worked. He could imagine Agron’s expression at that.

Diona pulled back and stared at him for a second.

“I want to know a gentle touch” she said finally. “I am ready to know a gentle touch. Duro I want to feel your touch before I die”

And with that she shed her ragged toga.

Duro took her in by light of shaft coming from grate above.

She was thin, her ribs were showing but her breasts were still firm and though they were small he found that they were still big enough for him to cup in his hand. The skin of her belly was smooth and Duro knew it had once been white. It was now streaked with mud. The apex of her thighs were covered in dark curls and her legs on either side of him were strong. He found that breath had caught in throat just looking at her and with hands that seemed suddenly too big he removed subligaria so that they were both naked.

It was an act that had to be done in silence. His fingers found her cunt and he stroked her like he knew woman liked, Diona whimpered once her eyes closed and Duro froze convinced he had forced her back to memories of pain. But as soon as he stopped moving his fingers she opened her eyes and shook head.

“Touch me”

He did not need to be told twice.

They kissed and touched in darkness for so long Duro thought time had become immaterial. The Gods themselves could descend at this moment and nothing, _nothing_ would distract him from the warmth of Diona, from the noises she made, from that little sigh she gave when he entered her, from the way she had clenched her eyes shut and then the way (to his great relief) she had relaxed as he had moved so slowly that he knew that the pleasure would come to her.

She pulled him close so that their chests were together, their mouths together, their fingers intertwined together the same as their bodies and Duro liked to think in that moment that their very souls were moulded together as one. He had never lost heart this quickly and he thought though he was not a romantic that he had been waiting his whole life for a woman like this. For a woman like her.

Her climax was as silent as it was glorious. She bit his own lip in surprise as It came to her and that was enough to have him shuddering his own release into her. His back found purchase against rock and he leaned back Diona still on top of him, his cock still in her, the two of them still combined as one and his hand still on her arse that was firm and smooth under his callused hands.

He pulled back to see that she was watching him with a look on face that he could not decipher.

“Gratitude” she said finally as her eyes swan with unshed tears. “I did not know It could ever be like that”

Duro said nothing, in a long line of whores and woman and warriors and on more than one occasion wife of other man he too had not known it could be like that. He brushed away her hair and kissed her again even as she detached herself and moved for dress and cloth so that they could cover themselves up.

“I love you” he said as she laid her head on his shoulder and he curled around her and the girls who were both thankfully fast asleep. “I adore you Diona”

“I love you too” Diona said finally into the darkness. “I did not think I would ever love again but I do.” Her fingers intertwined again with Duro and she laid her head on his chest.

Duro said nothing but kissed her head again blinking back the tears at the knowledge that he was on cusp of everything he had wanted since being a boy and was now going to lose it. They would not survive this, he, Diona, the children. He was not going to survive this. He was never going to see Agron again who would roll his eyes at the family Duro had made for himself but who would be wonderous Uncle to his children and kind and gentle with Diona. His brother was probably dead, he too would die and there was nothing he could do but hope that the Gods would merciful and that they would all be together on the shores of the afterlife sooner rather than later.

And with that thought he found sleep coming to him.

Diona was gone when he woke up not that that was surprising. Freyja told him she had gone to find food. Cecelija curled next to him and Duro nodded. Freyja sat on rock jutting out of ground and stared at him before asking with all the bluntness of a wooden sword.

“Are you and Diona together?”

“Yes” Duro said finally.

“And does that mean you are our parents?”

“Yes” Duro said firmly.

“Oh. Do we call you mother and father now?”

“Oh yes” he said as if there was no doubt in that.

Freyja watched him for a second and then smiled moving so that she was in his other arm.

“I am glad father” Cecelija said finally.

Duro smiled at moniker that he thought he would never get to hold.

“I am too Little One. I am too”

Diona came back a little while after that not with food but with woman. She did have bread Duro noticed and he made sure that children ate slowly and drank the little water she had slowly as well. There was something about Diona this morning that looked as if some hope had been restored to her. The woman that she was with looked if possible more broken than she had and Duro suspected that same treatment that had happened to Diona had happened to her. Diona kissed him when she saw him and Duro noticed other woman watch him with wide dark eyes under hair that was roughly shorn and a bruised mouth.

“Duro, children, this is Naevia my friend from old slave house. She too has been condemned to mines but I said she could come and stay and work with us”

There was a pause.

“You are welcome Naevia.” Duro said speaking softly into the silence. “I am Duro from Lands East of the Rhine and these are the children of Diona and myself, Freyja and Cecelija”

Naevia’s eyes widened again and she managed a small. “Greetings”

Duro shot Diona a look but she smiled another glorious smile.

“Naevia has heard rumour that the old house that we served in together has overthrown their masters and has killed many Romans, they are hiding in Capua but she believes her lover might come looking for us. Perhaps Duro there is hope after all”

Duro said nothing, he would not take away Diona’s joy or the way the children smiled for anything in this world or the next but privately he thought there was no hope for escape. He caught sight of Naevia looking at him again and knew he saw same believe in her eyes. She looked away as if afraid of keeping gaze on him for too long and Duro knew that he was right and that she knew just as much as he did that death would claim them all in the mines and despite happiness he had found for himself it was hopeless to wish for anything else.

Especially for freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter to follow, and I do hope to publish as soon as I can. 
> 
> Feedback is adored.


	5. Caught Somewhere In Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duro adapts to the presence of Naevia in their lives. 
> 
> There is a rumour that some slaves have escaped in Capua. 
> 
> (Mini filler chapter and a very short one before the action begins.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, it is horribly short and horribly late but I have recently started a new job and therefore fanfiction has been on the slide a little. I hope to publish another chapter but if I don't I will wait until Christmas and then publish (hopefully) a multiple update. 
> 
> This chapter is just a little filler chapter as I wanted to show Duro's mindset and how he refuses to believe his situation is changing and how he adapts to the presence of Naevia. I love the character of Naevia. I think Cynthia did an admirable job of replacing Lesley and unlike some I can understand her motives in War of the Damned. So therefore this story and this chapter does not hate on Naevia. 
> 
> Next chapter will begin the plot as Spartacus arrives to storm the mines. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just the OCs in this chapter. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think as well. 
> 
> As always this style of writing and spelling and grammar are not my strongest suits so if there are any inaccuracies i apologise in advance.

The addition of Naevia to small family was in Duro’s opinion totally unnecessary. He could understand affection felt towards former friend, the affection that Diona had. He could sympathise with the cruelty that Naevia had suffered at Roman hands (because soon story that she had been expelled from house for love and then raped by more men than she could count had quickly been explained), in fact sometimes he even liked the extra protection presence brought. 

And yet there were times when he wanted nothing more to do than to be rid of her. 

He suspected a part of it was the fact that he could not accept anyone into their lives that might bring danger down upon them. Naevia was still traumatised. So much so that she preferred to spend time away from him and the children. He knew that Freyja had picked up on changing emotion from him but he did not have it in him to sympathise with this woman when all of his focus was on his children. Naevia would refuse sometimes to work in mines if she thought guards were coming, she clung to Diona like babe to child and she regarded Duro with suspicion. She never seemed to fall to slumber either and that made the time when he got to be with his woman awkward. All in all he had liked dwindling life before she had arrived a lot more than when she had come to stay…and that was saying something even to self. 

Diona of course was filled with something that Duro had not seen her express before. Hope. 

Her reunion with friend, coupled with knowledge of rumour that slaves had overthrown their master in a house somewhere in Capua had given her face that soft smile that Duro had come to love. He found that the softness of the smile was even more soft when she saw Naevia. Sometimes Cecelija would sit with her in the mud under the guise of working while Freyja remained close to Duro as if fucking shadow. She for one did not think much of Naevia’s presence. Duro supposed he should have done the honourable thing and ensured that all of the new women in his life got on but he found himself so weak from lack of food, water, light and above all hope that some days he found it difficult to get up and even give pretence of work. 

Naevia talked only once about her life in the same slave house as Diona. It had been a good night. Freyja had found some meat and some bread and water, a feast for all of them and they each got a slice of bread with something that Duro suspected might have once been pig. Either way he did not share complaint. Hunger was a strong factor in their day to day lives now. 

She spoke once the children had fallen to slumber Cecelija leaning against Diona’s knee and Duro’s hand in the greasy, muddy strands of Freyja’s hair. She spoke about the gladiators, she spoke of a German man whose name she had never gotten to know who had fought as if half mad, she spoke of the man that they called even down in the mines, The Bringer of Rain. Duro was sure that was how they were getting water now but he made no comment. Her tone was still dull and quiet and she only seemed to liven up when conversation turned to Crixus, a Gaul that both women seemed to know. It was clear that they had lost heart to each other and listening to the story, of the consequences for Naevia when Lucretia had found out that her lover had fallen in love with another Duro found he could think kindly upon the woman who had fallen from grace for doing something as natural as breathing. 

Diona asked all sorts of questions, Duro only half listened as Naevia explained that Gannicus a long haired celt had won his freedom on the sands and that Melita had been poisoned. That had caused Diona’s eyes to widen and then fill with tears though she leaned back into Duro’s embrace and let him press kisses alongside her hair and face kissing away the salt with soothing gesture. 

He caught the longing in Naevia’s eyes when she saw the two of them and their kind words and gentle touches and found that blaming this woman for coming into his life was perhaps too cruel when he had pale imitation of everything he had wanted as an warrior (though he was too arrogant and cock-sure to know it) and she did not even have pale imitation. 

They had chosen well in their little hideout. The place where they had turned into home, all of them squatting like animals in dark and dust waiting for the blow of lash was hidden by a strong piece of rock. Of course it meant that one of their party had to be awake to protect the others but between the three of them, Duro, Diona and Naevia they managed to ensure that during the night they were protected. The children came first, even Naevia seemed to grasp the concept of that. If another person meant he got an hours more sleep then Duro could not find it in him to complain. His life was measured by hours under dark rock, sleep was as a precious and rare commodity as food and water these days. 

But still they survived. As time went on the rumours of the slaves that had escaped Capua got more and more frequent. Freyja who was the only one who could get in and out of the tunnels of the mines with more frequency than the rest and who could speak and hear common tongue with a staggering amount of perception, reported that there was an increase of guards at the entrances and that the man that they called ‘Spartacus’ was being talked about in hushed whispers as if everyone even guards feared retribution. He was monikered the _‘Bringer of Rain’_ and Duro felt unbidden mouth curl up at the thought of what Agron would have made of that name given to a fucking Thrace. 

That night as the mud settled around them and Naevia kept watch in the bleak darkness, (seeing the mud and the rot and the rats that were if they were lucky dinner) with unseeing eyes, Duro held Diona in the crook of his neck so that she was using his arm as pillow. The girls were curled up around them. Tonight had not been the night for lovemaking, tonight had been one of the nights where Duro had been feeling rather melancholy. The thought of freed slaves did not inspire the same hope in him as it had done Diona. Instead it inspired dread. For what could a handful of freed slaves, flies against the great might that was the bull of Rome, do for the poor souls trapped down here, himself included? 

He knew Naevia was of the belief that her man would come, especially now he had escaped free and clear with the others but Duro personally thought that if this Crixus had any fucking sense then he would run for the mountains and into the lands free and far from Rome. One woman (no matter his personal feelings) was worth the risk that came with the force of Rome bearing down upon you. Duro had been a slave for six months and he already knew that hope was futile. That there was no point. That for his own hard-won family, the battle was lost before it had even begun. 

He had to look away blinking back the wetness that came to eyes so easily when thoughts like these struck. Diona’s hand was tracing as sleep came to her on his forearm and Duro found the motion soothing. His hand found Freyja’s head from where she was resting, he could feel the bones in her skull. How Diona and Cecelija had lasted this long under such conditions he had no idea. 

Was it wrong of him to ponder, to wish and to pray that despair, disease, hunger and then the final completion of death came to Naevia first before either one of his children or his woman? 

Was it wrong to think long and hard about a world without her? Without Naevia and the danger that she posed. As a man Duro’s heart (what was left of it at any rate) went out to her, she had suffered a tremendous amount of pain at no fault of her own. And yet…

And yet…

All he wanted to do was to keep the hard won family he had safe. It was what any man would do he supposed if in his situation. And if Naevia endangered the three girls that Duro had come to lose heart, mind and soul too…well…

He did not think that any man…regardless of what they said about the ‘Undefeated Gaul’ would weather his fury. 

_ Gaul’s  _ he heard in his head as if he could see his brother as bright as day. He could see green eyes and that wide grin and that harsh smile that came when they had been forced onto ship. 

_ Gaul’s  _ Agron would have said without a second glance. _Shit eaters at the best of times brother. Don’t let the whore of one get under skin. Focus on what is important. _

Whenever he heard Agron’s voice Duro found that he had to turn his head away from whatever mundane task he had to do and blink rapidly so the wetness of his eyes did not spill down his face. Neither of the children he had come to consider to be daughters, nor the woman that he clung to and loved even when she was broken and yet still beautiful, deserved to not see him fall apart. Duro felt nothing but anguish when it came to his brother, he had no idea what had happened to him but he imagined once that when Naevia had told them about the unnameable German man who had aroused the crowd and who she had heard had a great desire for cock over cunt, he had thought of Agron. 

He had thought of his brother who had made no point of hiding what aroused him. For Duro it had been easy. He had known the type his brother had craved in his bed and he had never minded. Deep down, despite the teasing he had known that Agron was the man who could give a lot more if he was to survive the deplorable conditions that were slavery. 

That did not mean that he wanted to deny living himself. But hope was a foreign concept to him and he had long since given up on it’s friendship. He was tired, he was desperately tried and hungry and thirsty and the depression that was battling him was gaining in ever increasing bounds. He knew death was coming for him, neither the enemy nor the friend. He knew that the heaven of his homeland was open to him. 

He also knew that he was not ready to go. 

But then again did any of them get a choice when the gods of their homelands called them to them? 

When he thought strange thoughts like this all he wanted to do was to curl up next to Diona and close eyes tightly and pretend that he was in the Lands East of the Rhine and that all was well and all was normal. That Diona was his wife and Freyja and Cecelija were his children that he tucked into bed at night and hushed when they had nightmares and chided when they got into trouble. 

He was caught somewhere in time he realised one day when he struggled to open his eyes. Caught somewhere, where he could not see and he could not hear, where everything was measured into careful hours where you lived or you died Duro found that he had reached the point where if death came for him he would not fight it. 

All he wanted was to see Agron’s face again for the last time…to see the look in his brother’s eye, that look of love between the two of them and the way in which Agron could share with him without saying the words, that he loved Duro, that he was proud of Duro. 

Little did Duro know, that wish would soon becoming true. 

But that was a story for next time. 

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, i hope you like it please let me know what you think and i will try and update as soon as i can. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome and adored.


	6. A Dangerous Breed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A normal day in the mines in interrupted when strangers come looking for Naevia. 
> 
> Duro and Diona seize a chance to rescue their children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so here is another chapter. Following this one is another one which will be the last update before Christmas. 
> 
> Disclaimers-Nothing is mine, spelling and grammar are not my strongest suit and neither is this form of language and writing so if there are any inaccuracies then I do apologise. 
> 
> Please Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Diona woke to find Duro still at slumber, the children sleepily waking and Naevia at work her bare feet curled over rock and her hands trembling with exhaustion. Diona who still felt emotions similar slipped next to friend and bumped their shoulders together so Naevia could feel friendly touch and know that she had friend standing next to her. She was rewarded with a small smile that was a shadow of the familiar grin she had been used to when they were yet undamaged girls longing for love and romance. Only now when she was sure her life would end had Diona been granted the good man she had always wanted and here was Naevia living some sort of half life waiting upon a man who would never get to her before time called their lives to an end.

But there was something of import that she had tell her friend. That she had ask her friend. She knew that the hope of Crixus coming to Naevia’s side was all that was sustaining her friend in these darkest moments. Had she not known Crixus as a gladiator and seen him fight upon the sands then she would have thought mission impossible. But this knowledge coupled with her own knowledge that he and several gladiators were now on the run made her more aware that the chances of him coming for Naevia were greater than they had been when she had first arrived here.

“I must ask you something of importance” she said quietly. “I need you to listen sister and not tell Duro of this plan for he will object with much vengeance”

Naevia inclined her head a little as she buried her fingers in the mud under the pretence of looking for gold that they both knew was not buried down here in these air starved tunnels.

“If Crixus should get to you then I would ask you rescue both of my children and Duro. Take them and free them. Duro is a warrior though he is wasted down here. He will fight well. If I do not survive to see the day that you are rescued I would have you promise me that you will save my children”

Naevia turned to look at her then and Diona tried to search eyes to see a shadow of the girl she had once giggled with. There was nothing but a bone deep tiredness and an acceptance that this conversation was futile because chances are the Gods would see them all to muddy grave Crixus and this Spartacus included.

“I will see your family rescued” Naevia said finally and Diona reached out to grip her hand feeling the mud between their linked fingers rubbing against each other.

“I thank you” she said finally.

“Duro is a good man” Naevia said quietly. “I confess I was weary at first, I do not doubt that he feels the same way of me but I have seen him with you. I am glad that after so much unhappiness you have managed to carve out some joy for yourself. I am amazed to see you here alive. Never mind that you had given birth down here”

Diona gave a humourless smile as she recalled events. “It was not without difficulty” she confessed “To raise and love Cossutius’s child. But she has no qualities of him. And in my darkest days she has been what has kept me alive. And when Duro arrived with Freyja. There was never any doubt about bond between them. We have made a family together when we thought that we had nothing. It is a powerful thing. I would not wish the circumstances on anyone but I have achieved something here that I thought I never would. That is why I have to see them rescued if I can. Even if it costs me my life”

“Duro would never let that happen” Naevia said softly the smile a little bit more real rather than the hollow one she had been using. “He would say we leave together all of us. Even if it meant accepting the help of a Gaul”

Diona snorted unable to stop self.

“Mama” said a voice and she turned to see Freyja watching her. Diona took a moment to savour the new moniker. Freyja had never called her that before. She had always been Diona. Duro had been Father from the second that he had given both girls permission for them to use the name.

“Yes darling” she said seeing Cecelija creep closer following her older sister with cautious eyes. There was something in Freyja’s eyes to that made her pause her own hand tightening in Naevia’s.

“I think someone’s coming”

Diona nodded. As much as she wanted to hide both of her children if the guards were in a mood then they would find them and punish them. That was not going to happen while she still had breath in her body to prevent it.

“Get your father” she said shortly.

Freyja calculated in her head. There were two ways out of this passageway. One was the way the noise was coming and the other was barred by a gate that she had had chance to slip in and out of before guards had closed it. Now it was locked unless key was had there was no way to make it to the outside. Freyja knew it was a chance to escape as minimal guards guarded that gate but she had no skill or weapon or really any desire to die just yet so she had slipped back down through the mud to join her family in slumber.

She had figured that the less her new Father (not that she had ever had one before) knew about her actions the easier her life would be. Freyja had been the product of Roman man and slave woman and had been sold after childbirth had claimed her mother into one slave household into another until she had eventually been condemned to mines due to inability to give a shit when it came to taking care of the silk dresses the mistress of her house had worn. She had been told how utterly worthless she was before she had claimed five years of age. Being the bastard child of a man who took his lust on his slave girls and not on his jealous wife had taught her that she was nothing.

Just as her mother had been.

But Duro and Diona were different she knew. They seemed to love her regardless. They protected her. She could imagine sometimes that if life had been different for all of them they would have been a family. Sometimes she could imagine no other life for them. Certainly despite circumstances these months past had been the best of her entire life.

However guards were not coming through entrance way. It was a group of men and one woman her face streaked in mud all with brands but they were not guards. They were holding weapons but they were not interesting in hurting them. One man was pushing forwards and there was something about his face that made Freyja ignore her father’s sharp warning to keep fucking head down. His face was a mixture of emotion that were waring against the other, grief, pain, hope, love. Emotions that did and did not belong down here.

He was looking for someone.

“Naevia”

The name was coated in all of the emotions that had been etched upon face and she found that she rather wanted someone (as handsome as that of course) to shout her name like that. It was rather like a scroll story and she found that she wanted this man to get the ending that he deserved. Even if it was with Naevia who Freyja thought was rather _too_ sad to be around sometimes.

The shout came as their mother looked up her head snapping up at the sound of voice and her expression mixed with shock and something else that was almost like triumph.

“Crixus” she said and the man turned to look at her and then down at Naevia who was still on her feet rocking backwards and forwards as if babe trembling with emotion. The man…Crixus went straight to Naevia picking her up off her feet and holding her in his arms as tenderly as if she was a priceless piece of Roman porcelain that might crumble at gentlest touch. Freyja had never seen someone hold another like that, not even her mother and father who always seemed to take each passing second as if it was a grain of sand working against them.

“Diona” Crixus said over Naevia’s shoulder with a smile. “I had thought death claimed you long ago”

“Believe me there were times I thought It had done so as well” her mother said dryly. Duro…no…her father was now on his feet.

“But I have found family here Crixus. If you have plan to get us to safety I would have you take us all”

There was an undercurrent in voice that made Freyja stand up and pull Cecelija to her feet.

“We are not here to rescue every fucking fallen whore from the House of Batiatus” another man hissed. He was Gaul just by looking at him and Freyja felt her teeth bare even as Father stepped forward with furious expression upon face.

“Ah Rhaskos I see you have survived as well” Diona said dryly there was something to her tone that had become even colder as she stared at the bald man with a flint expression. There was a history there Freyja was sure of it but she still could not find courage to speak.

“We do not have time for this” the other man, the one that was clearly in charge said. “We must go…Diona…” he said testing out name. “If you know of way out of this mine then I would appreciate it”

“I do” Freyja piped up. All eyes flickered towards her.

“What?” Duro snapped.

“Well, I…I knew you would not approve of actions so I did not tell you. Also gate bars entrance way and only two guards stand there. Easy if you have weapons which we did not. Or keys. Which we do not”

“We have keys and we have weapons” woman said to the other man. “But if we are discovered Spartacus can children keep up?”

“We can keep up” Freyja said making woman look at her. “I promise. My sister and self can keep up if we have run, and father was warrior in Lands East of the Rhine, if you have spare sword he can fight”

The man looked at her in the eye as if he was trying to read her very thoughts and then his expression switched to Duro. Duro nodded once as the conversation between warriors seemed to happen without words.

“Very well Little One. Lead the way”

Freyja turned as another man came into vison.

“Spartacus Roman’s approach—” but his words were cut off suddenly when sword came through chest from behind and words were cut off with gargle of blood.

Freyja had second to see light leave eyes before someone cried. “Romans!” and she was pushed forwards by harsh hand as clash upon steal began. She ran without hesitation to gate and then woman was there with key. Her hands were fumbling but she got gate open and Freyja was through it. Duro thrust Cecelija after woman and Diona was behind him. Naevia came through next and then the long haired man and Duro followed by man in charge. She could not see Crixus.

The woman pushed her forwards causing her to cut knee on sharp rock.

“Fucking move” she yelled, and Freyja moved forwards throughout the tunnel feeling rather than seeing Cecelija behind her. She made way to top of narrow passageway and then the woman was in front of her with the long haired man. There was a sharp clash of steel and then she was being forced upwards again into a tunnel that went higher and higher and then she was being forced through it. She stumbled over what she knew was dead body and fell on the ground blinking.

The darkness was gone. The light was blinding after so many months in darkness and she could feel something soft beneath her. She could see the sky above her and she could feel air slapping her across face.

They were outside. They were free.

_They were free. _

A hand forced her to her feet and she saw her father standing there sword in hand Cecelija on his hip and a savage grin upon face. Diona was helping a sobbing Naevia and the woman was reaching for Spartacus other men surrounding him. Crixus and others were not there.

The long haired man was holding her upright. He smiled at her. She suspected he might be the nicest person she would deal with today.

“Little One” he said gently. “We need to run. Can you manage?”

“Freyja” she said blindly grasping onto the one thing she was sure off still despite sudden change of surroundings, of circumstances, _of life_.

“My name is Freyja”

The other man smiled at her.

“We need to run Freyja” he said pulling her along as they all made their way past the shouting and into the forest.

“We need to run. For many people do not want us to be free”

Free, Freyja thought to herself as she picked up the pace.

Free.

Free.

She was free.

It was not a word she had ever applied to self. She was not even sure what it meant.

But she was undoubtably in this moment free.

She felt the wind on her face and caught her father’s eye Cecelija on his hip, sword in hand and one eye on Diona running hand in hand with Naevia tears streaking down the woman’s face and she knew that the same savage smile on his face was etched upon her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah, now we are in Vengeance. The next chapter will show the return of a character that I love and I know everyone else does as well. 
> 
> Feedback is adored.


	7. Dust And Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spartacus leads his rebels to freedom in the woods but they are constantly hunted by soldiers. 
> 
> Duro regains sense of purpose with steal in hand. 
> 
> Nasir makes a sacrifice. 
> 
> And a familiar face arrives bringing much needed rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so again here is another chapter, I hope you all enjoy this and I wish you a very Happy Christmas and a very happy and safe 2020. 
> 
> As I said in all chapters none of the main characters are mine, and this style of writing and spelling and grammar are not my strongest suit so please keep that in mind when you are reading. 
> 
> Also I may have messed around with who was killed when including the character of Liscus but this whole story is AU so i figured someone dying a scene earlier wasn't too big a crime. 
> 
> And Enjoy.

They had ran until Naevia could not run anymore. She had collapsed as strength had drained from her and woman called Mira had told Spartacus that they must all rest. 

It was then that they heard it. 

The patter of boots on the mud. 

Roman Soldiers. 

Duro had really not needed the fucking Gaul to hiss at him to tell him what that sound was. 

He dropped Cecelija on the floor pushing her and Freyja to the ground and covering them with leaves. Cecelija complied her eyes staring at the stars with wide eyes that saw without seeing. Freyja was shaking though weather it was cold that had gripped her or terror Duro was not sure. Either way he pressed both of his girls to ground and hide with them. Diona and Mira were attempting to do same with Naevia. Duro gripped his sword and felt the savage glee that came with knowing that he had at last some way of protecting himself come into his blood again. 

The process of events was hard to get around. One minute Naevia had thrown self into arms of man who looked like had achieved hearts desire and then Diona was talking in hushed conversation to him. Duro had started upwards in fear but before he could Freyja was there conversing about escape routes. He noticed that man who was considered to be leader—Spartacus—had taken her seriously bending down to her level and then his daughter was turning just as boy not much older than newly turned man came down passageway. 

He had hoped to spare them both the sight. He had managed to grab Cecelija and hide her gaze away from sword going through man-child’s back but not Freyja. She had moved past him even as clash upon steel had been heard. Duro had passed Cecelija, still small and not able to catch up to her mother and then had turned back grabbing discarded sword and joining in the fight. 

He had managed to kill three before he was pushed backwards. But three had been enough. 

Three had been enough. 

Three had been enough to get the taste of what he once was back. 

He was a warrior. 

That thought had gripped him as he had moved from underground prison to freedom and when his head hit open air and he could breathe in fresh air, taste the smoke, feel the breeze upon face he thought he would break down in tears there and then. He had never expected to live this long to feel this again. To breath in air unfiltered by dust or death, to feel grass and leaves rather than constant mud. 

He was still not sure if this was some sort of dream. 

If it was he wanted to never fucking wake. 

There was the sound of crunching next to him and he reached out a hand covered in leaves to smooth it down both of his girls heads. Freyja darted a look at him and he put his finger to lips motioning her to stay quiet and she ducked her head down into the leaves her whole body trembling. Duro reached out with same hand and found the edge of Diona’s arm trailing finger down porcelain skin that was still standing out due to moons gaze. She turned to look at him and her mouth twisted into a smile. Duro felt his own gaze freeze a little as he looked at her. One way or another they were in this together. 

And it was at that moment as guards were just passing them by that the courage that Naevia had clung to ran out. She gave into fear and turned on heal to flee. Duro let out a string of curses. Diona moved to the children and Mira fled after Naevia as again there was a clash of steal upon steal. Duro moved so that he was protecting those on the ground and managed to sink the sword into another two Romans. But he was out of practice and he knew that. He ducked again and felt something slash his arm. It was then that the fury came back. He had lived for so long with his body wasting away but before that he had lived longer as a warrior, from training swords with Agron, contests with other youths, and then battle after battle against Roman Empire. He could do this. 

By the time they were done and all the men (and one warrior was dead) he was breathing hard. He felt something like vomit rise in his throat and something prick at his eyes. He was not used to feeling like this. He was not used to feeling so weak and helpless. 

He felt arm tug at shoulder in brotherly affection and Duro had one moment where he let thoughts take him to a world where it was Agron pulling on him recalling him to present thought. He ran a hand over face dispelling memory and turned to see Spartacus regarding him with something like compassion. 

“You fared well brother” he said in common tongue. “May I ask of name?” 

“Duro” he said thickly. “My name is Duro.” 

Something flickered across the face of both Spartacus and the man with long hair but it was gone before Duro could identify it though long haired man continued to stare at him with something akin to profound curiosity. 

“It is good to meet you Duro” Spartacus said holding out arm. Duro clasped it in the old way, warrior recognising warrior. 

“My woman Diona” Duro said pointing her out. She had slung an arm around a shivering Naevia, the other woman Mira was on her other side her hands slick with blood her dark hair wet with it and her expression fierce. “And my children Freyja and Cecelija” 

Even if he had not considered the girls to be his own after all they had seen he would have still considered it to be true. He still would not have told truth about situation. There was a tall Gaul who was giving them some very furious looks. Duro could feel teeth gnash together in response to such animosity. 

The man Spartacus nodded. “We need to travel to Vesuvius. Others will meet us there. Can you fight?”

Duro nodded. 

“We can manage” Freyja said catching his eye. She looked riddled with terror but resolute and she wrapped one arm around her sister’s thin shoulders. Cecelija nodded. She did not look as If events had sunk in yet a fact Duro was most pleased with. He caught Diona’s eye. She gazed upon Naevia’s crumpled form once and then her eyes returned to his face. He nodded understanding the knowledge she was trying to impart on him.

“We must go” the man said with the long hair. “Spartacus we must go. More will be coming and soon we will need to think about food and water if we intend to survive upcoming night. Vesuvius is two days at most away and Romans will be upon us soon enough” 

“Nasir speaks truth” Spartacus said. He bent down to help the girls to their feet. “Can you follow?” he asked gently. 

Freyja nodded though exhaustion (no doubt born of the adrenaline that was seeping out of her body after days events) was pulling at her. She gripped Cecelija’s hand again. Spartacus had a few choice words with the Guals and then they were off running again throughout the trees like silent spirts flitting through one life and the next. 

_ Idiot  _ said his brother’s voice. 

Duro felt smile tug at his face, despite seriousness of situation. 

They had found water in a small pond in forest. It was like a slice of paradise sent from the Gods. Diona ran towards it alongside everyone else drinking her fill. She had no vessel in which to drink out of and therefore she had to use her hands, cupping them so that the water could be drank. She saw the children drinking their fill. Duro and the rest of the men not even bothering with hands. She bit her lip again feeling her teeth nip at a cut she had been worrying at for a long time. She had not been used to drinking her fill for a very long time, water was rare and when she had it she made sure that ample amount went to her daughter rather than herself. 

She felt rather dizzy with relief as she sat back pulling Cecelija onto her lap as Liscus once again began argument that there were too many of them to continue and that they had already lost two warriors and would continue to lose more if they persisted with what he called _‘worthless individuals’. _At this point she was going to end up taking Liscus’s life herself Roman’s be damned. 

“We will all make it to Vesuvius” Spartacus said in tone that brooked no argument. He shot Liscus a poisonous look that reminded Diona of their old Domina somehow. However, she found that she found presence of him soothing. Clearly he was the leader, and he had gained some form of respect or control over the Guals something she had ever only seen Oenomaus accomplish. 

They set off again darting through trees. Freyja was getting tired Diona could see. The girl had an immense amount of courage but she was eleven years of age and underfed, worn down by months of work and frightened beyond her age. She was shaking so much when they eventually stopped that Diona was convinced she would fall over and she slung an arm around the girls thin shoulders placing herself between her and Liscus who would be quick she knew to point out failure of their little group should he gain opportunity. 

“You are doing wonderfully well” she promised the girl and was rewarded with a small smile.

“Cecelija is doing better” Freyja said her dark hair lank against her shoulders. 

Cecelija was walking along with Naevia who seemed to draw comfort with the little girl by her side. How long her dearest friend and her daughter could keep going Diona did not know but she thought that if they did not reach the mountain soon then they would all be in trouble. Already she was feeling exhaustion pull at her bones and a heavy sickness that came with wanting a good meal, a good sleep and a good cry. 

She caught Duro his hand filled with sword again and she caught his grim smile. He too looked as if determination was all that was keeping him upright. He too looked as if he was one step away from collapsing upon ground but he too had a willpower that was not to be underestimated. There was something about the set of his jaw though that made Diona want to push him up against the tree. She had never been adventurous sexually. She could remember Cossutius and all the men that came after him. Desire and fucking had become two separate ideals. She had never been able to reconcile herself to both of them being the same thing. 

Then again she had never expected some mad German with green eyes and a desire to protect someone who had filth stuck to her like she had. 

One way or another she would be glad until her last breath that there paths had inter-crossed. 

The problem was, she thought as they halted Spartacus holding a hand in the air. She had never put much faith into surviving. Now she was free—and wasn’t that a fucking word she had never thought would apply to self—and she had no thought of what would happen next between them. 

_ Perhaps,  _ a part of her brain supplied her in a snide tone that reminded her of her Domina before she had been offered up as base entertainment for several men, _he will not want a woman as damaged as you. Perhaps he will want woman who has been touched as rudely as you? Someone who does not know how to pleasure a man without flinching away in fear? Perhaps he will want a clean and perfect woman to look after him. And you will lose everything. _

She shook her head trying to lose Lucretia’s mocking tone but before she could respond to Duro’s look of concern they were surrounded. 

Mira moved so that there was a path and Diona grabbed both children and Naevia and pushed them down so that they were crowded against the fallen trunk of a tree watching the fight. Nasir was standing close to him and it was he that caught near fatal blow. 

Liscus also fell. Diona could not help but stare at him. Regardless of how they had felt about each other they had both known each other from Ludus and times gone by, the mark of time had seen one of them live and one of them die. 

Diona could not help but be glad it was her to live. Liscus had been a son of a whore through and through. 

She pushed the children into the ground as Nasir fell. Cecelija went willingly her hands in Diona’s but Freyja screamed. Diona shushed her least they draw attention to themselves but the girl promptly burst into tears. The rest of Roman’s were dealt with even as debate ensured of what to do with Nasir. 

Diona rocked Freyja as hot sword was presented across Nasir’s stomach as soon as the younger Syrian could stand they were moving again. Duro hooked Cecelija on his hip and Diona slung an arm around Freyja even as child wiped her eyes her hands shaking and her breath coming in hiccupping sobs. 

“We need to keep going” she said though she could read desperation on Spartacus’s face as clear as the stars were present in the sky. He was worried, they had been running too long and too many Roman’s were after them. Diona could understand and she almost smiled though she bit it back. There was a chance death could claim them after all. 

Duro and Mira were all but carrying Nasir over their shoulders when Spartacus stopped suddenly. Nasir was a delicate shade that promised death and Diona wiped away sweat that had gathered at temple and brow, she could see signs of wound becoming infected even as it had been closed and she hoped against hope that he would hold onto life long enough for some kind of medicus to see him on proper path of recovery. 

Duro and Spartacus had short words and she noticed that he looked at her. Diona pressed the cloth that had come from what was left of her dress—not that there was much—long ago she had said farewell to modesty—into Freyja’s hand and instructed her on what to do and then slipped over to Duro’s side. 

Duro reached for her hand and she gripped it back feeling the strength that he was holding on. Something was not right here. 

“I wish you all to get to the mountains with Mira and I will make stand here” 

Mira scoffed. “You are the one they are after. It is better if we all continue together Spartacus or make last stand here. Nasir and the children need to be somewhere safe and we are but half a day away. If we move with speed we can achieve goal. There are many hills and caves near mountain and once we re-join others…” 

Spartacus looked like he wanted to yell but there was a cracking sound. Diona bit her lip hard and wrapped an arm around Duro’s shoulder clinging on with all she had.

“Diona and Naevia could go ahead with the children and with Nasir. And we could stay and fight” Duro said clapping hand on shoulder. Diona rolled her eyes. Men were fucking idiots at time. 

“Fucking idiot” she hissed. “Naevia is exhausted, the children are exhausted, we cannot carry Nasir by ourselves. I believe we must make stand here.” 

Duro opened mouth to protest. Diona with sudden bravery reached out and pressed her hand to his cheek. 

“Duro, it is better to die with the sun on our faces than to die buried in mud” 

Duro shot her a desperate look and then pressed his mouth to hers moulding their lips together in one desperate kiss that Diona took to mean their last. She pulled away as the sounds of people approaching came closer. 

Naevia leaned her head against Nasir’s shoulder. Diona sat down against the base off the tree and pulled her daughter into her lap and her adoptive daughter into her side pressing them both close and rocking them as if they were newborn babes. If death was coming then they would not die alone. 

She was sure of that. 

There was more movement. Diona saw the shift in Duro’s posture but then she looked at Spartacus and Mira. Her gaze took in the change in posture and she realised that they were not fearing anything. They knew this people. 

It was clear even to her that they were not Romans. 

One man clapped Spartacus on the arm and then came straight to Nasir with look in green eyes that spoke of great tenderness. 

There was something about him that was familiar. 

There was the clang of sword hitting stone and she turned alongside man with green eyes to see Duro watching with wide eyes that seemed shocked beyond anything she had ever seen before. 

“Agron” 

The man with green eyes stared back and then his mouth moved into one name. 

“Duro”

For a moment the two stared at each other and then suddenly Duro said one word ladled with an emotion she had never heard before, that stole Diona’s breath away. 

“Brother” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is adored. 
> 
> I hope to publish before new years. I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas.


	8. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Duro reunite as they move towards the temple and to a temporary shelter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is the chapter I promised before New Year, I wish all of you a happy and healthy 2020. 
> 
> As always the usual notes in this chapter about spelling and grammar and the language are the same. 
> 
> And also UNCLE AGRON!!!

His attention had been fixated on Nasir. He had never planned to lose heart to the Syrian boy but he had. He could understand Crixus and his devotion to the woman cowering in the mud next to him. He had never understood such love and affection before because he had never felt it or been on the receiving end of it before. The only person he had ever loved had been his brother and his brother had been…

Agron swallowed his hand dropping from Nasir’s chin. Thoughts of Duro were still like a knife to his stomach slashing through flesh and leaving him vulnerable. He had not known the fate of his brother and he had reconciled himself to never knowing.

There was the sound of sword dropping to grass but Agron paid it no mind. He could see Naevia and another woman of whom he had no knowledge off. She had two children in her lap one of eleven years of age the other of eight and Agron forced self not to roll eyes. It was so typical of Spartacus to bring back strays as it was in the way of thinking that House Slaves would ever become gladiator.

The woman had long dark hair and green eyes that held a haunted look. She had looked like she had seen and gazed upon many horrors. Her body and that of the children were thin but under the ragged dress Agron supposed she might have been desirable. He could not tell. With women he could not tell. He held no interest in things such as that. Women had never appealed to him.

“Brother”

For a second he heard nothing but that voice. He had dreamt of that voice when enslaved in ludus. Every time he had entered the arena, had spilled blood upon the sands it had been to earn money to find the owner of that voice. He had wanted nothing more to do than to find his brother and reunite them and he had thought that Batiatus would have been able to see such goal to completion. Of course he’d had no knowledge of what had happened to Spartacus’s wife. Had he then he would not have bothered.

He turned, why he did not know because Agron had learnt time and time again that hope was the cruellest thing that could happen to a man outside of love and he had once learnt to live with the absence of both and only just learning how to live with one.

But standing there against the rising of the sun, covered in grime and dirt and swaying if truth be told with exhaustion, adrenaline and probably hunger was his brother.

Duro.

Duro.

Duro.

Alive.

The two of them moved towards each other simultaneously crashing into each other as if they were small children after fight. Agron felt his eyes grow wet with knowledge that little brother was returned to him even if he was a bit battered and bruised. He could feel the ribs under his brother’s skin and the wasted muscles that he had once boasted off. He could feel the arms grip him tight as if he wanted to burrow under skin and hide away from the monsters in embrace and Agron felt another wave of fury towards Roman cruelty. His brother was not as he remembered him full of life. He was an older damaged version of the youth he remembered.

But he was alive.

Agron could work with the rest.

They pulled back and Agron slung an arm over shoulder turning to Spartacus who was wearing an expression of confusion. Mira next to him looked much the same but there was an understanding in her eyes that made him think that perhaps she had understood.

“Spartacus meet Duro, the brother I thought lost to me”

Spartacus’s eyebrows shot to the top of head and his mouth dropped open. Agron tried to communicate apology for previous actions. Had he known that Duro was in the mines…he would have never have told such a lie.

Spartacus had been right.

But he always had been.

Not that Agron was going to tell man such, he’d had enough mad escapades to last him a while.

“It is good to meet you Duro” he said finally clapping his brother. Duro nodded though the smile did not meet eyes. He seemed stunned beyond any other emotion. Agron tightened grip. “You afforded yourself well, I thank you”

Duro nodded again.

Just then one of the girls, the older one pushed herself onto shaky feet, her legs were as gangly as a newborn horse and Agron watched as she came to Duro’s side curling around him so that her body was positioned behind him. Spartacus turned to give them some privacy and Agron looked down as Duro’s hand found girls head.

“You afforded yourself well too little warrior” he said softly. “You and sister”

“Are we safe now Father?”

FUCK. THE. GODS.

Agron calculated in head just to make sure that he had not fallen into some strange world. His brother had not been gone that long.

Duro turned to him and Agron struggled to regain power of speech.

“Are we safe?”

“Yes, for time allowed. We can move in more of a group and I doubt that soldiers will return. Soon we will be in shelter of the mountain and we can hide in there.”

Duro nodded once turning face back to little girl as other one came and joined her. The woman with the dark hair said something to Naevia who was helping Nasir into a stretcher brought by Donar and then came over her bare feet padding softly on the leaves that scattered the ground.

“Who is this?” the older girl said her chin sticking out as she gazed upon Agron. Agron had to admire bluntness.

“Freyja” the woman chided softly.

“This is my brother. Agron” Duro said softly.

The woman raised her eyebrows as she took him in. Both girls stared at Agron as if he was giant.

“I thought you said he was lost to you?” littlest girl said softly.

Duro smiled. “I thought he was. But as you see now he has returned”

There was a very silted silence. Duro spoke then turning to Agron. He reached out with hand that showed all the bones and gripped tight onto woman’s hand. He pulled her closer and she wrapped her own hand around Duro’s wrist. His brother seemed to gain some sort of comfort from her touch.

“Agron this is my…this is my woman, Diona. And our children Freyja and Cecelija”

Agron blinked.

“Hello” he said unsure of what else to say. Even he thought it would be rather rude to ask Duro what the fuck was going on and what the fuck he had been doing since they had been separated.

“Cecelija is Diona’s child and Freyja we have adopted together, they are my family” Duro said and a little bit of strength came back into voice as he caught Agron’s eye.

Agron looked at him and the words that were on his tongue died out. His brother did not look like the arrogant youth that Agron had always remembered him by. He did not look like the confident laughing man he had been before separation. The Mines had took something out of him, he had gained a new mantle of maturity as much as he had apparently gained the title of father and…well…partner, helpmate and lover. Agron had never seen this side of his brother before and he had always wondered weather or not he would. Duro had been womanizer and never once had a woman caught his eye that had lasted longer than a quick climax.

But that did not matter. What mattered, all that mattered was that his brother was standing here before him alive. What did more family members mean to that? He would gain answers sure enough.

“Welcome” he said feeling rather foolish. “It is…a pleasure to meet you all”

Duro seemed to relax into the woman’s shoulder who smiled though it was slightly sad. The two girls seemed to relax as well.

Agron caught Spartacus’s eye. Nasir was now ready.

“We need to carry on walking” he said gently. “The aim is to have shelter for tonight. If you can manage”

“We can manage…” the woman…Diona said softly. She turned to her children. “We can manage” she said flashing them a smile. Duro was watching her with a rather tender expression that once upon a long time ago would have had Agron punching him in the shoulder and rolling eyes at his lovesick other half. But he could not do that anymore.

Not when he thought of Nasir.

The walk through the woods was long though without the added presence of Roman’s trying to kill them Freyja found she enjoyed it a bit more. The woods did not look so dangerous in the dark and though she was tired and hungry and cold she found that she was not shaking with adrenaline as much.

Her father was walking with her mother, her mother had Cecelija on her hip and the girl was fast asleep. How her mother who looked as if she would snap in two like fallen twig could carry Cecelija’s not so inconsiderable weight Freyja did not know but she found that she wanted to move forwards towards intended purpose and not lag behind.

She fell into step next to Duro’s brother who was casting eye every five seconds to the man prone in the sling—Nasir—his name had been. There was concern on every inch of his face and Freyja knew that Agron had lost heart to smaller man. How he felt in return was something that only Nasir knew but Freyja had seen the small smile that graced the grey face and thought that perhaps feelings might be returned.

“What do we call you?”

The question made Agron turn to look at her with small start.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what do we—Cecelija and me call you? Do we call you Uncle?”

There was a pause as Agron mulled this over.

“If you wish” he said slowly. Freyja nodded. That seemed a lot simpler than finding another alternative.

“How did you come to find Duro?” Uncle Agron asked finally.

“Oh we were in cart together. He shielded me from looks from guards. In that place…” she paused trying to find words to describe the place and what company meant, what having someone to come back to at the end of wherever you were meant.

“It is very easy to die alone” she said quietly. “When you have company…”

“Ah”

“I found Cecelija in a mud slide, she was alive surrounded by death, I did not know she was Diona’s child. They’ve been together ever since, I do not have a mother and my other father, my master sold me so…”

“You are half-Roman?”

“Yes” Freyja met his stare with her own. “But my Domina did not want her husbands bastard in her house so she ordered my mother to rid herself of me when I was baby. She refused and hid me so Domina had her killed when I was discovered and sent me to mines”

There was a silence and Freyja realised that it was the first time she had ever spoken of past to anyone.

“Fuck” Uncle Agron said finally.

Freyja supposed that was one way of putting it. She carried on walking and if Uncle Agron noticed her wiping her eyes he said nothing.

“Does it matter to you?” she asked finally. “That he has us? Mother, Cecelija and me?”

“No” Uncle Agron said slowly. “It does not. I have thought him dead for months now. And…and I would take him in any form I could find him, I used to tell myself that if I ever was fortunate to set eyes upon him again. It did not matter to me in what state he was in. I tell you this because you are more grown up than you appear but…he does not need to know that feelings are those, though I imagine that he feels same if positions were reversed. After all young one, you do not choose who you lose heart to and if you are lucky enough to keep it then you do not question the events that led you too them”

Freyja thought about it for a time as they carried on walking.

“I want to do what you do” she said finally. “I want to kill Romans and fight, I can fight, I’ve been fighting every day of my life, can you teach me?”

Uncle Agron laughed and when his hand found her shoulder she turned to face him. He bent down to her level and his face was kind.

“You do yourself proud little one” he said softly. “But you are not strong enough to wield steel. I will teach you how to hold sword and I will teach you how to defend self if time ever comes but you are not going to be in the frontline of any battle for many a moons yet. And killing, is not so easy as children believe”

“I am not child”

“No, you are not” Uncle Agron said with a warm smile at her face which was no doubt showing her anger at being addressed as such. “But even if you were trained you are not of age to fight yet, your father would not hear of it and neither would Spartacus”

Freyja decided to vent her feelings by kicking a nearby tree.

“Ah you are young, young one and you have much to learn but you are strong and you will survive. And one day if this rebellion survives to take on Rome itself with it’s Emperor and it’s Senate then I assure you, you can help tear it down stone by stone”

Freyja supposed she would have to be satisfied with that.

They carried on walking comfortably.

“He loves you, you know” she said into the silence. “Nasir”

She would have laughed at how comically Uncle Agron turned to look at and how he seemed to brighten as if the sun was shining directly on him. She grinned at him.

“I was right next to him you know as you hugged and then introduced brother. He was so relieved before he fainted. I think he was almost jealous of ready embrace. And he clearly smiled at you regardless of pain that he was feeling. I would say you were in with a chance”

And with that she smiled scampering off to go and walk next to Spartacus.

Perhaps he would take her up on offer to fight in his army?

“Are you at peace brother?”

That was Duro.

Agron turned around to see his brother staring at him. He was now holding younger girl and he smiled openly seeing Diona leaning her head against his shoulder Freyja’s words in his head reverberating as if she had screamed them.

_I would say you are in with a chance. _

“Oh yes brother” he said with a smile clapping Duro on the shoulder. “I am more than at peace”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and I will try to update soon. 
> 
> Feedback is adored, thank you all so much for your kind comments. 
> 
> Happy New Year !


	9. To A Better Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group of rebels find shelter, Diona and Duro take stock of events that have taken place. 
> 
> Agron and Spartacus lead a desperate attempt on the Arena in order to save Crixus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, this is a small fluffy filler chapter and there is going to be more action in the following chapters as the plot thickens. 
> 
> As I said in all chapters none of the main characters are mine, and this style of writing and spelling and grammar are not my strongest suit so please keep that in mind when you are reading. 
> 
> And Enjoy.

They carried on walking until Spartacus raised hand. At this Agron stopped pressing Freyja on the shoulder with his fingers so she stopped as well. Within seconds of the rebellion stopping brother was at his side with Diona next to him, the smaller girl next to them. 

“What is happening?” Duro asked him. Agron shrugged. He had stopped a long time ago when it came to expressing wonder about the thoughts that ran round within Spartacus’s head. 

“Wait here I will attempt to find cause of delay” he muttered to his brother. “Gather children close though I do not think it will be of any concern” 

It better not he thought to self, he’d more than earned somewhere to sleep with brother by his side and Nasir needed to rest somewhere too, preferably with a medicus that knew that he was doing with two hands. 

He ducked and weaved with Donar on his other side to see the remains of a temple against the backdrop of the mountain half concealed within the rocks. It had a roof over his head as well and shelter within secure walls. 

Mostly. 

Of course the man with the bow and arrow coming out of the shadows like some sort of demon from the other world ready to see them to the afterlife did complicate things. 

It was not that Agron thought that they would lose this fight. It was just more bloodshed, his hands were already stiff with the remains of the soldiers he had seen from the forest to the afterlife. 

They man identified himself as Lucius Caelius, he also imparted information to them that they could use. Crixus was still alive, the other two captured with him were still alive. 

Agron who still held no love for the man had to admit that there was a small (small) part of him that was glad that he was alive. While Crixus had taken them to the gates of hell and back in order to gain back Naevia, his actions however idiotic had reunited Agron with his brother and helped to introduce him to Nasir. Now he had the chance of a future beyond blood and battle even if the chances of getting that would never happen. Rome would send legions, but he had a chance to gain some happiness before he went to the shores of the afterlife and he supposed the fucking Gaul played some part in that. 

As much as Agron loathed to admit it. 

“Crixus” Naevia breathed. How she had managed to sneak upon them Agron did not know but he quickly sheathed his sword. Spartacus offered small smile but the hope in Naevia’s eyes died out when she was told her lover was due to be executed upon the sands in front of an adoring crowd. Agron personally thought that that was not the worse way a slave could go and Crixus was a strong enough fighter to last more than a day regardless of any handicap but even he thought that it was not…prudent…to say so. 

He turned to Spartacus but the man had look in eye that made the words die in his throat. 

Oh Fuck. 

He had a feeling that he was going to be doing some other mad fucking plan due to an unbreakable loyalty to another fucking mad man. There was a long pause as Spartacus seemed to stare at the wall before he shook himself out of stance. 

“Upstairs” he said jerking his head towards the courtyard where there was a gaggle of voices indicating that Donar had gone to gain support of rebellion now that the grounds were secure and free of any soldiers. He followed Spartacus who went straight to Mira’s side and then into a conversation and turned to his brothers who was standing against the wall watching him with an expression that Agron had not seen before. Things had changed since the return of Duro, something had changed within his brother, and though they had only been reunited a short time Agron could see it. The Mines had taken something from his brother in a way that the Ludus could have never done. It was sobering and all Agron wanted to do was to reach for the wine jug the fucking cunt of an old man had thrown at the wall in a fit of passion. 

“What is happening?” Duro asked coming to his shoulder his brows creased. Agron rolled his eyes feeling the muscles in his neck pop when he moved head in order to try and move some tension that was growing unchecked. He saw Nasir be moved downwards into shelter of the temple and warmth of four walls and roof but did not see much other than the pallor of the man (and that did not look fucking good) when he felt a punch to upper arm. Apparently not all of brother’s irritable features had been stripped by cruel hands and rough treatment, it should have created irritation within him like it had done when they had yet been youths but instead it created deep affection instead, a deep love between brothers that the Roman’s could not take away. 

He found that deeply reassuring. 

“I do not know” he said finally rubbing arm. His brothers hand had become bony with lack of food and he had always had a hard punch when he felt like it. “But I believe it might have something to do with storming the Arena in Capua in order to save Crixus and the other Gaul’s.”

There was a pause and then Duro’s eye rolled backwards. “Fuck” he said finally. “He would do such a thing with a handful of men?”

“Oh yes” Agron said smiling suddenly. “He stormed the mines did he not?” 

“Yes and it was a child that saw him free of them. This sounds even more reckless than that. I do not doubt that Crixus is assert in fight, I saw him raise sword quick enough myself but even you must see that this plan has faults”

“Yes” Agron agreed. “But I will go and see it to completion. You of course will stay here” 

“Oh I will, will I?” Duro said raising an eyebrow with a voice of high amusement that did nothing to hide the fact that he was clearly insulted. 

“You are still weak brother” 

“Weak enough to save my family from certain death” Duro hissed back. “I have not lost all that I was to the Roman’s yet. I have not held sword for many a month and I have seen food and drink rations reduced to almost nothing but I am still the same warrior I always was. If you do not think that of me even now Agron then I do not know what is the point” 

There was something in his voice that made Agron look at him his words dying in his throat. There was something here that was above brotherly teasing and all he wanted to do was to pull brother in a hug and never let him go. But everything in this new world that they had been thrust into was still new and he did not know how to say what he really thought. 

“I would not have us lost to each other again” he said just as quietly. Duro snorted. “Death comes to us all Agron” he said finally. “But I am quietly confident that neither one of us will lose the other this night. Besides…I have to breathe, and you and I breathe air better when it is strong with the stench of blood in the air.”

He held out his hand and Agron took it clapping their forearms together in the old recognition of brotherly support, brotherly love and a bond that went deeper than many would give thought to. 

“I will come and get you when the plan is in motion. Go and spend time with your family brother” 

“They are your family too Agron” Duro said his voice serious enough so that Agron felt heat rushing through his body. “Come and meet your nieces, come and spend time with the woman I will one day call my wife” 

Agron did not know what to think about that so instead he followed his brother and took his place on the stone steps waiting until he was called, weather or not it was to help Spartacus or to hear news of Nasir he did not know. 

All that he knew was that he was waiting. 

“I do not like this plan” Diona said. She had taken shawl from one of the woman and she had wrapped it round her body as if she was swaddling a newborn baby. 

Night had fallen and the stars were showing. Both of the girls had been amazed at all the stars that were in the sky, Cecelija especially and it had taken some time to convince them to close their eyes and let sleep claim them. 

Freyja had gone to sleep the second her body had curled under the blanket. It had taken a story from Agron (with several rather crude embellishments from Donar who too was warming at the idea of being sort of Uncle figure—even though he had not been asked) about how they had overthrown their masters, to get her to close her eyes and drift off. She had left them under the watch of Naevia who was hollow eyed herself and then she had gone and found Duro who was sharpening sword with an expression that would not have gone amiss in the Ludus and one she had seen many times before on many a man’s face. 

Sometimes she found it hard to believe that expression had been what her dreams were made of, what would leave her breathless with desire, now she was hardened and beaten and a little more broken and she found that the expression that caused her to go weak at the knees was now the soft smile that Duro gave her. 

“I would not worry, I will be with brother and the men that he trusts, and I would still trust Agron with my life Diona. I will be back after I have repaid my debt to the Romans. I will see many fall”

Diona did not find that attractive thought at all but then again she was not bloodthirsty enough. All she wanted to do was to sleep with Duro curled up together embracing first night of freedom and safety. 

“Duro” she said finally. “I know we both thought that we were facing impending death when we first declared feelings, but I have lost heart and soul to you, even if…”

She was cut off by a hard kiss and a hand sneaking around her waist. Duro pressed another small kiss to the tip of her nose and she felt him press another under her eye where the tears had appeared. 

“Silly girl” he said finally. “It was never about that for me. I too lost heart when I saw you, it was as if body and soul were waiting for you to enter my life. And when I come home I will find time to show you how a man loves a woman, I will show you every day that the _animals_ that caused harm to you did not even touch the love that grows every second for you. And then when will storm the gates of Rome I will take you to the Emperor’s palace and marry you in his courtyard of gold.” 

Diona raised an eyebrow and adopted amused tone to try and hide how her heart was fluttering at words. 

“You believe we will storm the gates of Rome now do you?” 

“Ah why not?” 

Diona laughed, she could not help self from laughing out loud at that even though she knew that many people would thought that she possessed with some sort of wild emotion. She was not far off. 

She kissed him and felt her body mould to him willingly. She had never been like that before. Pain had been the only emotion that she had felt, even the moments with Duro in the mines had always been quick and she had never really had to think hard about what she was partaking in. 

So there was something to cause concern. 

She kissed Duro again before she went to sit down with her friend and her sleeping children. The men and Mira disappeared before the sun even began to peep over the hills and before the sleeping began to even stir. 

Diona did not sleep however. 

She spent the night clutching Naevia’s hand in her own feeling the tension in her knuckles as they sat there and waiting to see if their men had returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is adored. Thank you all so much. 
> 
> Enjoy.


	10. All That Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Duro being their assault on the Arena in which they are joined by a man with a history with the same house Agron is affiliated to. 
> 
> Duro comes to a conclusion and Diona has to confront the knowledge that all is not well with the man that she loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, I do apologise for the lateness but I caught the common January cold and that put my writing back a weak or so. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just this chapter. 
> 
> And let me know what you think, I always say that this type of language is not my strongest suit and neither is spelling or grammar. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this and I will try to publish the next chapter sooner rather than later.

He had been going along with the plan with head held high, sword gripped hard in hand and he had managed to keep his emotions in check. That was until he had seen the tunnel of dark and dismal water that he would have to wade his way through. The sewers of Capua reminded Duro too much of the mines and he found that breath had left body and that he was shivering despite the air being warm as the stars had twinkled down upon them.

Somewhere near the mountain of Vesuvius his children and the woman he had come to lose heart and soul to were sleeping their dark heads pillowed together, his girls though not his by blood curled up together feeling the fresh air on their faces for the first time in times gone by so far that he did not care to count. He should remain focused on that dream that the Gods had granted him. Not on a nightmare that continued to plague him even after release.

He did not like dark and enclosed spaces.

Agron clapped him on shoulder, green eyes filled with concern. Duro raised his head so that he could meet his brother’s gaze and tried to communicate all of the fears that he was feeling with him so that Agron at least could understand that it was fear driving forth his decisions and not cowardice.

His brother of course had always been smarter than Duro had ever given credit for. He understood emotions and with a heavy gaze filled with sympathy and understanding he made to address them.

“It is just dark tunnel, you can make it through, I am right there, or if you do not wish too then you can stay here and keep guard”

It was muttered under breath so that nobody could overhear them but there was something about Spartacus that made Duro think that he would probably know what was taking shape within his head and he knew that he had to make choice as to where he stood in this rebellion. He was a warrior he had always been that, he could not ignore what he had been raised to be even if the concept was utterly terrifying. This was his choice.

“No” he said finally. “I will manage brother, it’s just…you do not know what it was like” he tried to find words to describe what it was like in the mines, the lack of air, the fear, the heat and the dust and the mud that seemed to stick to you. The knowledge that he was losing what had made him so proud—the muscles that had gained from wars he had won and enemies he had defeated, the hunger and the thirst and the desperation and the fear of waking up to see one of the children or Diona had died during night.

Agron seemed to see through this though and he clapped his hand on the back of Duro’s shoulder.

“Come brother” he said finally. “We must carry on”

And with that Duro took a deep breath and he forced himself to forget about what he was doing. He took another long breath and then ducked his head down and dived into the sewers that lead to the arena so that he could save (as Agron called him) the fucking Gaul.

The arena was mostly underground but the tunnels were wide and open and torches were flickering in scones on the wall. It did nothing to change the blood stained walls or hide the screams of the people above clamouring for blood but it had not been as bad as Duro had been expecting.

Agron and Spartacus took command killing the guards. Duro strapped the armour on his brothers shoulders and was suddenly reminded of a time when he had done same thing before they had gone out to fight final battle against the Romans. They had been sure that they would win—or those were the words they had spoken to each other—Duro had been sure that death would claim them all, the same glorious death on the battlefield they had always wanted.

How wrong he had been.

He ducked back into shadows as man approached gate where Spartacus and Agron were preparing to slip into grounds to gain much needed advantage. The man that had joined the was dressed in garb similar to a gladiator and he had muscles to prove it. Duro eyed him with interest, he did not understand why Agron was conversing with him but the expression on brother’s face was one that Duro knew well. He was not happy with events that had taken place.

There was a hand on shoulder, and he turned around hand on sword ready to strike down the person behind him. However, it was Mira her dark hair sticking to the shit from sewers. She eyed the tall blonde man with one raised eyebrow that told Duro that she too did not know this man. Gazing upon brother for one second more he slunk back down to the sewers to wrap chains around post that would see arena (and several thousand people) to their end.

Privately he hoped that no children were in the crowds. While he knew that was a pointless hope he also acknowledged the hope that he did not have to see small bodies.

The fire around them was growing hotter and hotter and then Donar was there wrapping chains around the wooden beams. Duro gnashed his teeth together and then they pulled down the arena with Mira screaming in their ears to pull harder.

It was a moment that would never be forgotten but Duro was coughing too much due to the smoke to appreciate just what was happening and just what his brother was doing.

They made a run towards exit, back into dark, dank sewers, many crashed into water Donar amongst them but Duro hung back. It was not that he was afraid of the dark water or the enclosed space it was that he was not leaving without Agron. He had come too far under too difficult circumstances to leave without brother. They would not be parted two days after they had been reunited. Duro was not sure he could survive such course of action.

“You should go” Mira said to him her face resolute. She too it seemed was going to stay until Spartacus returned. Duro could understand devotion to her lover—had it been Diona then he would not have left until she was by his side. But it was not, it was brother and the feeling was almost as strong. He knew he did not want to live without either one anymore. Not know that he had managed to survive. There was a pause where they stood there not sure what to do and then there was a crashing from above. Duro raised sword ready to fight to defend the woman next to him (though he doubted very much that she needed much defending) and then the guard coming towards them was dead with sword lodged in back.

Spartacus was there, there were two men behind him one of dark skin who was clearly injured, the other was the blonde man who Mira had stared at who without a second glance towards them propelled the other man towards the sewers. Following them was Agron who was covered in shit and blood and looked more alive than Duro had ever seen before—he had seen brother crazed by blood and battle—this was something else to gaze upon.

Duro wondered why he did not feel that same rush. He thought that it might come back in time.

Fuck the Gods he hoped so. He was no good if thoughts continued down this fucking dark path.

Agron clapped him on shoulder again and Duro took that to mean that all actions had been completed. He nodded and turned ducking head just in time to avoid flame covered post of wood.

The screaming continued.

Thinking that perhaps it was prudent to return to the temple Duro closed his mouth and tried very hard not to think about what he was diving into. He felt the stone of the passage press against him and the water swirling around him and then when his head broke surface he breathed in clean air, the type of clean air that he had always taken for granted and never would again and then he forced self to climb out of the shit.

Agron was behind him covered in the same muck and his grin was feral. There was an edge to brother now, Duro reflected sadly, much like there was with him. They had changed from young men to old men. Duro looked down at sword in hand and reminded self sternly that he was free, that he was alive, that his family were alive and that he could pick up sword and avenge those months where he had thought that freedom was a gift lost and never to return.

“Are you in good form brother?” Agron said finally. Duro nodded. He did not trust himself to speak.

He carried on walking in silence for some time listening rather than voicing his opinion. He carefully did not turn gaze towards brother and tried not to dwell on feelings. He felt out of step with the rest of the rebellion—he so dearly wanted to sleep as well—perhaps once he had rested he would feel the same joy that his brother felt. For months he had been used to painful emotions so toxic that he did not know how to name them or address them. He did not know how to communicate with his brother, his older brother, without fear that Agron would see him as weak and pathetic, a babe in arms that needed to be cared for.

Forget the loss of the body he had once been so proud of—the body that he had once clung too. He regretted nothing in his life, more than this.

“Yes” he said finally not looking at the man next to him who had been his world for more years than he could enforce mind to recall. It was a falsehood so false that even Agron could see through it, he could see in his eyes. But Duro could not speak now about what was bothering him, itching at him under the skin, he wanted nothing more to do than to go back to the temple, task completed and wrap himself around the one person who had no knowledge of what he had once been.

The walk back to the temple was in silence. It appeared that Agron too had thoughts that dwelled in head that he did not want to share.

Diona had been sat upon temple steps attempting to braid Cecelija’s hair (not that she feared it would do much good without hot bath and a bounty of oil to run through it—why oh why did her daughter have to inherit Diona’s natural curls—they had always been problematic to contain) when she had heard commotion. She saw the man that she had known as Melita’s husband—unlike Naevia she had never been on a first name basis with the man, be carried up the stairs in a makeshift sling.

Even from where she was standing her daughter by her hip she could see he was in dire shape.

Another man passed her and Diona felt mouth drop at sight of him. That man she knew very well. That was Gannicus.

She had most certainly _not_ expected to see him again.

Not in this life anyway.

He spared her no glance his blue eyed gaze fixed firmly on the one man he had called brother above all others. Diona stared after them for a second and then she felt arms locking around her.

For a second she stiffened. She was too used to cruel touch and the harshness of muscle to immediately melt into embrace but she knew within that same second that it was Duro and that in Duro’s arms she was safe. It was one of those things that she just could not explain—she chalked it down to the Gods finally showing her a bit of fucking favour and turned so that her head was buried in his chest and underneath the stench of death and smoke and sweat she could smell _him. _A little bit musky and a with something spicy under his ears as if she was mother cat scenting out kitten. She did not care. All that mattered was that he was back.

She pulled back and kissed him hesitant at first. She was always soft with their kisses. Duro flicked a little flash of tongue into her mouth and she opened like flower though he did not last long. They pulled apart and she could see something in his eyes when he gazed upon her. She wanted to ask what happened to cause such a dark look but could not as at present moment the girls joined them wishing for stories about how they had taken down the arena.

With grin that did not match look in eyes Duro tugged both girls to the place where Donar had taken perch and was now telling story to many gathered around him. She watched as Freyja leaned her head against shoulder and Cecelija curled on his lap regardless of blood or the fact that she was a hefty eight year old. She saw out of corner of her eye that Crixus and Naevia were still locked in their embrace and that Agron had laid gentle kiss upon Nasir who was beaming like lovesick fool and who was still clutching bandaged side. But it still could not fully detract attention away from the man who had captured her heart—or what was left of it anyway.

“He is not coping well” came voice to her left and she turned to see Agron standing their face crumpled in concern as he took in little brother.

“He was strange on entire mission, I understand that this is first one in many months and I do not wish to detract or mock months of suffering but he is different. He has cloud hanging over him like noose and I do not know how to see him to other side”

“Ask him” Diona said simply. “It should be you. If I ask he will make up excuse to placate me. He will make some sharp comment about being warrior and become defensive and withdrawn, events have taken toll on him more than he has said I fear…”

She trailed off Agron nodded.

“I will make gentle reminder tomorrow” he said patting her on the shoulder. Diona managed a small smile, her flinching was getting a lot easier to hide she noticed.

She went and sat next to him leaning her head against his shoulder and wishing she could bury herself under the muscle and the tissue and the sinew that was Duro but she could not. Instead she leaned back and half listened to a story that was more story than truth and wondered just what it was about this man that had caused her to fall head over heals, irrevocably in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. I hope you enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Feedback is as always adored.


	11. What They Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Duro admit their actions and their feelings as healing begins for both brothers. 
> 
> Gannicus makes his presence known. 
> 
> In the process Diona learns some startling news and a plan is put in place for a shipment of slaves heading for Roman shores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, this ending kept niggling at me so I went back and rewrote it which is the problem with the delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway and I will make haste to publish the next one. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine, and as you all know spelling, grammar, and this language style I can struggle with. 
> 
> Please Read and Review.

Gannicus had been sitting at the bedside of once dearest friend. He had told himself he would take whatever words Oenomaus would throw at him with his back straight and his head held high like the Gladiator he had once been but he had feeling that thoughts and words would betray him and he would be coward once more. He ran hand over face attempting to banish the reminder of look on dearest friends face when he admitted to losing heart to Melitta, laying with her, of her dying because of him.

There was movement behind him and he whirled around hand on sword hilt. If it was that fucking woman again…

But it was not that blonde woman who had thought that he needed cunt to distract mind. It was something else.

The thing at the door was a child. Gannicus blinked wondering weather or not lack of sleep had caused him to see things that were not there. The child could be no more than eleven year of life and her dark hair was pined behind her ears with twine as if to hide fact that it was matted and ragged. Her dress was half falling off her and even from where she was stood in shadows he could see she was emancipated. Her collarbone was a sharp as sword bone and her cheekbones were prominent. He could see beginnings of brand on her collarbone as well what looked like three circles in the shape of triangle.

“What?” he snarled upon seeing her. He hoped she was not here to offer herself. He personally had known men who had enjoyed children before and he had taken great pleasure in sending them to the fiery gates of hell weather it be in the arena or in a fight behind brothel.

“Water” she said holding out cup. “I did not think you had been offered it. Spartacus had come back with some fresh and clean. I also brought cup for friend for when he wakes” her speech was straight forward and there was no accent haunting words, she was Roman slave then…or at least had been born on Roman soil if not sold as small child.

He opened his mouth to tell her to go away but there was something about her earnestness in this moment that made his heart ache for some reason. After all she’d had no reason to come and make sure he was well thirsted. Certainly not if she had overheard thoughts towards what idiot who had taken down arena was doing.

“Gratitude” he said taking cup from her. She smiled showing perfect white teeth and then without warning sat down next to him on bench. Her knees were very pointy and her legs like twigs that could be easily stepped upon. Gannicus felt around for the meat he still carried in pouch from Capua and passed her a slice. Face cracked into another smile when she saw it despite the fact that it was few days old at best and she immediately snagged a bit off chewing with all the finesse of a starving child.

“I am sure friend will wake soon” she said finally into silence. “Everyone seems to share good opinion of him.”

Gannicus snorted.

“How old are you?” he asked finally.

“Eleven.”

He was right then, a child. Spartacus was using children as gladiators.

“No, he’s not” she said shaking her head. It took Gannicus moment to realise he had spoken aloud.

“I wish he was” she said pensively. “I can fight you know. I’ve been doing that since I was born. I have fought grown men for food in mines and won. I’ve been told I have very sharp elbows”

Gannicus choked on water and suddenly he was laughing so hard he found that he could not help himself. This girl was something else even he would admit that. He could not help but find her rather endearing which was strange because Gannicus had never spared much thought to children. There had never been any in the Ludus and when he had seen them they had always seemed small, loud and covered in shit.

“I do not think that sharp elbows will afford you much in field of battle” he said in a tone that he hoped hide his amusement. The girl shot him a withering look.

“That’s why I need to fight” she said nodding.

“Ah child, you do not need to hasten death to your side”

“It’s not about that” she said shaking her head. “It’s about family. If mother and father will fight so must I”

Gannicus thought that was a rather childlike way of thinking but he kept thought to himself.

“What is your name?” he asked finally as he kept his eyes on Oenomaus.

“Freyja. And you are Gannicus. I overheard mother telling father”

Gannicus was about to ask just who this girls mother was when the curtain was moved again. He raised eyebrow when he saw who it was. Diona.

Fuck the Gods he was sure she had been killed long before he had gained freedom.

“Freyja leave Gannicus alone please. He does not need you interrupting thoughts.”

“I was not doing anything of sort” Freyja said sounding indignant in a way only a child could. “I was keeping him company” she turned to face him her head tilted to one side so that a strand of hair stuck to her pale face.

“I was, was I not?”

Gannicus opened his mouth and then closed it. He had wanted to say she had done no such thing and was irritating as all children her age was but then he realised for the moments he had been talking to her he had forgotten the crushing weight of guilt that had consumed him for so long. It had been a long time since that had been gifted to him.

“Indeed child” he said finally.

“Anyway dinner is ready” Diona said clutching shawl around thin shoulders. “Agron has found rabbits so it is meat this time”

The girl grinned again and scampered off her seat like aforementioned rabbit. She turned and waved goodbye and then disappeared before Gannicus could lose what was left of mind and wave back.

Diona caught his expression and Gannicus scowled. Sometimes the slaves Melitta had trained looked too much like her for his heart to handle.

“Is she yours?”

“In a way yes. She was orphan within the Mines that Duro adopted as own and when we became as one she became mine as well. The other child you will see if you ever go above ground is mine from birth. I gave birth to her in mines and raised her in mines.”

Gannicus raised eyebrow. He would not admit that he was amazed at such a feet but he was. He gestured for Diona to take seat and she did. She looked at Oenomaus with her dark eyes full of pity.

“I was not there when Melitta died” she said finally. “She was well loved. I should have listened to her advice more. It could have saved me a great deal of pain” she looked away pensively and Gannicus who remembered both Diona and Naevia when they had been girls blossoming into young women free from the harm of men. Now he suspected they had both been rudely handled. He was not sure how to mention that. How to mention that he was sorry but that he knew better than most that slaves had no choice. If he could go back to night where he had been ordered to fuck best friends wife and the pain that came with losing heart to her afterwards then he would take the shackles of slavery with a whole and full heart.

“What happened?” he asked finally.

“You know what happened” Diona said flatly. “Cossutius…he…you cannot imagine Gannicus. Naevia bought me passage from Capua but I was captured. I was scheduled to be executed but Dom…Lucretia saved me, well she thought she was saving me. Instead she condemned me to the mines. I gave birth to his daughter there. My daughter.”

Gannicus swallowed harshly.

“He’s dead” he said finally. “Spartacus threw spear to hit Glaber and hit him instead. He’s dead Diona. You are free”

She turned to look at him her wide eyes luminous and Gannicus watched as they became overbright with tears. One dropped and without thinking he reached out and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. He did not know what this information would bring her weather or not it was peace or pain but he was glad he could bring her something in this moment. Truth if nothing else.

Diona swallowed and then turned her head away so that her dark hair was covering her face. Gannicus thought it best to allow her that moment of privacy.

“I hope that he lives” she said finally into the silence. “I pray for it Gannicus though I do not believe much anymore in the Gods. I know Melitta did, and I know that she would not allow her husband to join her in the afterlife until he had completed his tasks on earth.”

Gannicus nodded. It was too raw for him to admit to this truth.

“Diona?” came a voice from behind them. They both turned to see the man that had been at the arena with them. The brother of man who Gannicus had privately named _‘Lumbering Oaf’_ was stood there. His expression was not what you would call friendly. In fact when gaze alighted upon Gannicus it was hostile as if man was viewing threat. Gannicus took that to mean that he was the man that Diona was now claiming as her own.

“Duro?” Diona asked her smile gentle and soft in a way that despite the time that had gone between them Gannicus could remember. Duro’s eyes flickered to Gannicus for a second and then back again.

“Meal is ready. Spartacus also wishes to have words with you Gannicus when you are able.”

Gannicus thought that perhaps that was a polite way of hinting that Spartacus wanted to see him now and that it could not wait. He did hope this was not some half arsed way of asking him to join doomed cause. He hoped that Crixus would leave with him, Naevia and Diona too. In fact to save them all from Rome’s wrath he found as he got to his feet that he would not mind that little eleven year old upstairs who had been the only person to come and sit with him and not ask anything of him.

The second the man was gone Diona got her feet and followed. Duro followed her because he was unsure of what else to do and he found that he did not want to sit in a room with a man whose life was like drops of water trickling out of hand.

Diona was leaning against the wall still in the darkness of the cool shade, her face was in shadow. Duro slid up to her side a hand coming out to touch shoulder but she moved away with a speed he had never seen before.

“Apologises it is just…he’s dead” she said her tone one of wonder. Duro did not follow and his expression must have said as much because she elaborated.

“Cossutius, he was there at the arena. The man who raped me repeatedly, the man who made me pregnant with Cecelija. He is dead. I…I never thought that would happen, I never thought I would gain justice, I never thought I would be the one to survive”

Duro nodded though he was at a lost as to what to say. What could you say to this?

“What can I do?” he asked finally after lengthy pause. Diona stared out into the courtyard her eyes filled with memories of a time and place that Duro could not see or reach. He wanted to help her but he could not. He wanted to reach out and protect her from memories, from the nightmares but he could not and the helplessness that he had been fighting to keep at bay had returned in full force. He swallowed.

“Can you just…can you just hold me?”

Duro gently folded her in his arms, she leaned into him burying face into his shoulder as if she wanted to bury under the skin and sinew of his muscles and bone. Duro rocked her back and forth like she was small babe in a gentle way his hands carding through the black strands of hair. He did not comment on the tears that wet his skin, and Diona did not mention them.

They remained there for a time.

At least until the shouting began.

Nasir had asked for time alone and while Agron was loath to see him from sight, he knew that grief for his friend would dominate actions and words for the immediate aftermath.

The rain had stopped as soon as Gannicus had left (Thank the Gods) and Agron and the fucking Gaul had spent the initial aftermath calming down rebels who were confused and on edge. For most of the (impressive) fight between the two former champions Agron had been forced to stay his hand even when all his instincts were telling him to thrust his way forwards to take his brother’s right flank and defend him.

Of course that was rather difficult as he had been forced to keep one hand on Freyja’s shoulder because on more than one occasion she had tried to get closer to rain soaked battle to gain proper vantage point. The last thing that either one of them needed was a child joining in fray and Agron was learning that his eldest…niece…(and that was a stranger word if ever there was one) had a mind and will of her own that would not be stopped by little things such as fights to the death.

His other brother, the brother that was blood however had stood in the far corner, Diona still in his arms. Donar had Cecelija behind him peering from leg and Agron wondered if he was using child as crutch in the same way Agron was. To prevent self from disobeying Spartacus’s wishes and joining fight. Crixus certainly seemed to have a tight grip on Naevia’s elbow. They were men of blood and battle. They were not use to standing idle with arm up fucking arse watching another take up sword in their name.

The silence was now broken by hushed whispers. The fall of the blonde woman whose name Agron had in truth forgotten was all that was being whispered about. Mira stood up her face impassive but her eyes troubled, Agron knew that killing took something out of a person when your hand was new to task. Nasir was still sat next to friend and Agron wanted to go to side but there was the issue of Gannicus who looked exhausted beyond years—Agron knew feeling intimately.

“Are you staying?” Gannicus asked Crixus, Agron pretended that he did not care about answer. It was from a pure strategic vantage point. Crixus could fight and they needed men who could fight now more than ever after depleted losses in mines and arena.

“We are” Crixus said speaking for self and Naevia. Agron’s good will towards him lasted three heartbeats more than it would usually. Gannicus turned to Diona and raised an eyebrow. Had the situation not been fraught with seriousness Agron would have laughed at expression on brother’s face. Diona smiled at him but shook head. Gannicus did not look surprised by this. He said something to Crixus and then departed. Agron did not care if that was the last that they saw of him.

He turned as crowds departed Nasir going with a young girl with a blonde braid down her back and another slave to bury their friend in the woods. Agron thought about going but decided that Nasir did not need him intruding on private grief shared with fellow former house slaves.

“That was something” Duro said finally into the silence.

“Can you help me check the perimeter brother?” Agron found himself blurting out. Duro turned to look at him and Agron could have kicked himself.

Stupid fucking idiot. Duro would see through flimsy excuse though he did not pull Agron up on this. Instead he pressed kiss to Diona’s hair—though Agron noticed that she did not seem to even _see _him and then he grabbed sword and followed him out through the small side opening in the wall towards the outer stone walls.

“Is Diona well brother?” Agron asked cautiously. Duro paused stopping still in the surrounding trees.

“There was a man in the box where Spartacus threw spear, it was intended for the Roman who was in red but it hit another man and killed him. That man was called Cossutius. Gannicus told Diona he was dead. He is Cecelija’s father in name only—he is the one who raped Diona repeatedly and violently”

“Fuck” Agron said feeling that same hot swoop of rage hit him again. “Fucking Roman cunts”

There was another pause as Duro nodded and then his face seemed to crumple without warning as if all of the emotions came swimming to the surface. Agron had never seen him like this before—tears did not come easily to them even when they had been small boys but the protectiveness that had dominated Agron for most of his life came to the surface and he crossed the small space between them and wrapped his brother in his arms.

Duro stiffened for a heartbeat and then dropped his head onto Agron’s shoulder and found that he was sobbing out the emotions that had been trapped like fish in a net inside him for so long. Agron only caught little things of what Duro was saying but it was enough to cause alarm. He allowed Duro to cry his full guilt gnawing at his insides.

“Apologies” Duro said roughly wiping face with arm. “I am weak”

“You are not weak” Agron said wrapping hand around brother’s neck and forcing him to look at him. “You are not weak Duro. You did not survive the mines due to drawing upon weakness, you did so by drawing upon strength, strength that you passed down to assist Diona and children”

“I was scared when I picked up sword.” Duro confessed quietly. “I was so scared Agron. I have never felt like that before”

“You never had woman and children waiting for you before” Agron said finally. “Are you going to turn back upon rebellion and hide like a coward?”

“Am I fuck!”

“Then you are still my brother, still the same brother I remember. The men that we were before did not know love, they did not know loss in the way that we do now nor did they have people that they cared about them depending on them. But we are both different men now, we must be those men. We must leave behind ghosts of the past and become men of the future. And as for fighting—I will help you gain strength again. I promise you”

Duro nodded and suddenly Agron had to voice darkest confession.

“I thought Naevia a lost cause” he said suddenly. “And I told lie to Crixus that she was dead so that we did not go to mines. I had no idea you were down there brother but I did not rush to aid fellow slaves. I wanted to run too. And I left you had I know…I would have stormed the fucking pits of hell to have you by my side, guarding my right flank again”

Duro pressed shoulder against his own again in brotherly touch.

“You did what you thought was best. Thank the Gods Nasir is smarter than you”

“Inde—that’s not amusing you little shit”

But Duro was laughing and this time smile met his eyes. Agron clasped his brother’s arm again and pulled him into lopsided hug that had them both clutching each other a little tighter than usual. They did not speak for the rest of the walk around their defences but the light was back in his brother’s eyes and Agron found that he could breath a bit more easy without the guilt clogging up throat. He thought that he would mention plans to take slave ship as soon as they got back and perhaps this was a sign from…someone somewhere…(he refused to say Gods)…that events were finally taking a much needed turn for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you are. Next chapter should come soon. 
> 
> Feedback is of course, always adored.


	12. Emancipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron, Duro, Spartacus and Donar liberate a slave ship full of Germanic slaves. 
> 
> During the night an event occurs forcing Naevia and Diona to revisit unpleasant memories and have honest conversations with themselves. 
> 
> Duro is insecure, and Diona finds herself making another decision as they reaffirm what they already know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so here is another chapter, this one is perhaps the longest one I have written for this story and it took me on a very emotional journey juggling Diona's self worth and her worry that she didn't know how to have a consensual sexual relationship while not under the threat of imminent death--she loves Duro and in the mines she gave consent to Duro but I wrote those chapters as in Diona's head she never expected to live so now she's struggling to realise that yeah--she is gonna have a life and of course her rapist is dead which is giving her all conflicting feelings. It's a roller-coaster this chapter but I hope you all appreciate it. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is really mine, spelling grammar and language might face some inaccuracies. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think.

The day after Gannicus’s departure, Duro, Agron, Spartacus and other rebels went to take a slave ship. Crixus stayed behind as did the still recovering Oenomaus. Diona had just finished wrapping Duro’s cloak around her shoulders (the man always insisted that she kept it when he went with his brother to places unknown and she always wrapped it around self until he returned) when she saw Naevia pick up sword as if testing weight in her hand. Diona felt her eyebrows rise. She had not thought Naevia the type of woman to pick up steal and fight considering how much she had always claimed she had hated the games. But then again she would admit that she did not know much about her friend or what she had been through (though she could imagine) since they had been separated all those years ago.

Naevia sent small smile to her as she caught her staring. Diona forced self to smile back keep one eye on her girls. Cecelija had taken to following Freyja around like shadow and Freyja spent time watching the training of the gladiators her hand on her chin and her elbow digging into her bony knee, her dark eyes always sharp watching each movement as if she was ensuring the safety of each man and woman holding steal.

Diona went to sit next to her. She was not the only one who did not find the idea of carrying weapon appealing. She knew well enough that she would have to learn and she also knew that she was not looking forwards to task. Other people in rebellion did not pick up sword but Diona thought that they needed all people that they could. She would have to ask Duro for training but the thought of being thrown on the sand like she had been in that cage before arena…before Dom…before she was put to cart well…that sent her burrowing for comfort in Duro’s cloak wishing for the strong arms of the man she loved to wrap around her and rock her back and forth in gentle embrace.

She had been…emotional of late. Since she had learnt about Cossutius’s death she found that she was thinking about what he had done to her more and more. She did not want to return to wreck of woman she had once been. She was a new woman for this new life but she found that whenever she was alone or when she was awake staring at the stars while everyone around her fell to slumber, she was back in that fucking house with her legs being pried apart by rough hands and her being powerless to stop it. Even when she gripped sword she knew that she did not have strength to wield it for rest of coming days—she had no part in rebellion or at least she feared she did not.

Perhaps there would come a time when she did not need to fight but Diona could hardly afford to think like that.

Instead she sat on the temple arms around her knees Duro’s old knife (that he had left behind as it had needed sharpening) in her hand feeling the touch of the cool metal, watching her girls gaze upon her friend as she slowly began to learn how to kill another before their time came. She ran the cool stone down the metal sharpening it quietly when she felt shadow over shoulder and she looked up to see Oenomaus standing there, his scared chest and back exposed to sun and wind and children’s gazes.

“Fuck me, those scars are gnarly are they not?”

“Freyja” Diona scolded trying to bit back the smile at her daughter’s forthrightness. The language was all Duro who it seemed had never realised that it was not of the norm for small children to use words in company even if that company was a Gladiator School. Freyja made an abortive apologetic gesture but Oenomaus was smiling too much for himself to take too great offense.

“Indeed they are small one” he said smiling that soft somewhat amused smile that she had seen him use only for his wife and for other younger slaves at the house of Batiatus. Diona stood up to say her greetings—she was not expecting much—after all Oenomaus and she had never been more to the other than slaves sharing the same house, in all honesty she had only seen him when he had been talking to her master or was sneaking glances at wife.

She was therefore surprised but gratified at the same time to receive hug.

“It lifts spirit to see you alive Diona”

Diona opened her mouth to speak but found she could not. She nodded her throat to tight to speak but she thought that perhaps Oenomaus—a man who had seen much of this world and done much to this world understood. He seemed to have gift of understanding more than anyone Diona had known. She found he (like Duro) had an aura of safety surrounding him and Diona found she was following him herself as he turned to speak to Crixus and Naevia the four of them representing a time when they had all been naïve and childish and had thought foolishly that their masters had loved them, had needed them and had seen them as beings worthy of life.

And that was where she was when Duro and his brother came back.

He had not been surrounded by this much kin since he had been boy.

Agron had kept up flow of conversation with their fellow countrymen. Spartacus had said nothing but Duro could not help but see where the leader of rebellion was coming from. His brother had seen slave ship with their men and their kin and had reacted accordingly and in truth Duro was relieved and gratified to be around men of his homeland. But he did not hold hatred of Guals in the way that Agron did. He admitted to self that Crixus was a pain up arse on times and his arrogance was as pronounced as Agron’s but he was not going to raise needless problem with a man who loved a woman who had the same dead look in his eyes as Diona and who (much the same as him) did not know how to help.

They entered makeshift camp chatting and laughing and the flow of conversation in the language he had long stopped using helped like balm on wounds. These people were cut from the same cloth as he was, fighting for their freedom and losing it to Roman’s only because they felt superior. They had carried the same swords and the same fight in them that Duro had once lost and he found he could take breath a bit easier when he thought about life that he had always believed was lost in the shadows of whatever came after this life.

Diona was stood next to Naevia who was with Crixus both of them watching wearily. Crixus looked fucking furious, the man had quick mind and Duro knew he had made connection between Agron and the ship that he had picked being full of Germanic individuals. Subtlety was not one of Agron’s qualities after all. Duro crossed over to where she was standing and pressed a kiss into her hair feeling her stiffen again and then relax. Duro frowned a little. Since the news that the man who had repeatedly raped her had fallen to very well deserved fate she had been pulling away from him as late. They had not made love since the mines anyway and Duro wanted to believe that she still considered him her heart as he considered hers but he could not deny the fact that things had been cold between them since they had escaped.

Perhaps she had only loved him under the possibility of death? Maybe she was with him for sake of her child? Maybe she had never really wanted him? Maybe she would shake off shackles of past and move on with man that was of her choice?

The thought made him feel sick. But he had been thinking these thoughts as he lay awake at night listening to the sound of the trees shake with the wind and the air caress his face. He did not know what to do or how to fix problems that were outside of his control. Crixus it seemed was facing the same dilemma but Duro could not bring himself to ask the other man for either help or advice. To be honest he was not sure he could stand to see the look on Agron’s face nor the conversation that followed his thoughts and spoke to Crixus about his feelings.

He was pulled by thoughts as Freyja and Cecelija who came to his side. Cecelija who was looking at Sedullus with wide eyes clung a little bit to his side, her fingers working into the fabric of his cloak that Diona had given him back. Freyja was looking at Saxa with profound interest that worried Duro somewhat. He had been in Saxa’s company for half an hour and he already knew that she was someone that he did not want Freyja to learn _everything_ from her.

He smiled down at them. Crixus snarled a little under his breath and Duro after pause went to freshen up he could feel the dirt on his skin and not for the first time since fast moving events wondered if one of these men, nameless and faceless to him at any rate, freed from ship would be the one who would steal away the only good thing he had ever had in his life.

His conversation with Spartacus had not proven well. Agron had seen the look in his brother’s eye, Spartacus did not approve of decision. Granted their numbers had swelled beyond what they had and they now had fighting men and women which greatly increased their chances of surviving fight but he also knew that they were still lacking numbers and trust.

The children did not help matters. Agron paused putting down knife and trying not to think about the way that Sedullus had cast look towards his nieces as if they were added burdens. Granted the children could not fight (though Agron suspected that soon Freyja would find way if not out of sheer determination then by badgering Spartacus to death), Nemetes had muttered under breath about _fucking children slowing down advances _and Agron had shot him look thanking the Gods that he did not believe in that Duro was not in hearing.

His brother continued to be a source of constant mystery. He had changed beyond all recognition and Agron knew that despite the fact that they had, had conversation in woods the troubles that clouded Duro’s mind were still present. He personally did not understand though he knew Duro did not understand his undying and never ending hatred for Crixus and his ilk.

There was movement behind him and he turned to see object of thoughts standing there with wide eyes. For a moment they were silent as Duro seemed to weigh up his words and when he spoke it was in a rush.

“I do not think Diona loves me anymore”

Oh fuck. It was one of those conversations.

“Do not be idiot” Agron said quickly surprise making him act. “Diona adores you”

That was true.

“She does not respond to touch or too conversation”

Agron sighed counted to ten in his head and reminded self sternly that Duro had been through enough and would probably not deserve the punch that he so longed to give. Agron had never really had the patience to deal with stupidity.

“The man who raped her has just died and she is clearly locked in memory of him. I would not want to be touched if all I felt or see was that. She will come to you if she wants help. You know this, you know you are being stupid, why torture self like that?”

Duro made abortive gesture with his hands eyes overbright and Agron felt a wave of both fury and sympathy. If for one second he could have taken Duro’s place within mines he would have done so. Anything other than to see his little brother going through this. He dropped knife and pulled him into arms.

“You can cry you know” he said finally. “I will not judge. I am your brother. I am here for you no matter what even when I think you are talking out of your arse”

Duro made a small noise and then started sobbing. Agron sighed and pulled him closer.

Fucking Romans.

How it had happened was still a matter of heated debate afterwards. Freyja had gone for water and had come back her face white and with such a look in her eye that Diona who had been sat with Cecelija whose eyes were falling shut in the glow of the fire, sat up straighter staring at adoptive daughter and feeling ice climb down her spine and that was before she saw the blood on Freyja’s face.

“What is my girl?”

“Naevia and Sedullus” the girl said trembling, “I…mother I do not…I tried to get away before he saw me but he threw jug at me, I think he is raping her”

Diona stood up and hardly aware of what she was doing was off. Freyja watched and then went straight to the man who would defend Naevia with his life.

Crixus took one look at her and seemed to understand.

Freyja had always liked him.

Diona had seen enough to know what was happening, and suddenly her memories of being held down and taken were overwhelmingly present. Naevia was screaming and Diona found knife in hand and before she knew what she was doing, she had sunk it into the soft skin of Sedullus leg. That was enough for him to let go of Naevia who collapsed on ground. Sparing her friend a look however seemed to cost Diona dear as Sedullus kicked her in the face sending her flying.

But she did not have time to dwell in fear. For Crixus arrived and within seconds Agron and Duro. The look on Duro’s face spoke volumes.

Gods Diona loved him.

Though weather he could love something as broken and damaged as her was another story.

She crawled to Naevia as chaos descended.

“It will never be over” Naevia said simply. “All I learnt was useless”

“It will” Diona said hauling her to her feet. “It has to be over otherwise they win.” She thought of Cossutius’s smug face as he had declared her to have the tighter cunt and closed her eyes. She never wanted to think of that again.

Cecelija ran to her with face determined.

“Father says we should stay here. Crixus is engaged in combat with Sedulous, Uncle with Nemetes and he with Lugo. Mira and Saxa are fighting, Freyja has found perch on lader and is throwing rocks at anyone who gets to close and swearing her head off”

Diona closed her eyes in utter exasperation at her eldest’s determination to fight and then opened them again at another loud crash.

“Come” she said. “We do no good hiding here”

“Mama, you are bleeding”

Diona felt under her eye, she was too. It was a small cut from shoes that had been in her face but she found that it was not the worst injury she had received. It was not even mentionable.

She spotted Freyja as soon as she entered clearing. The girl caught her eye and then began to dismount from her perch on top of ladder. Diona noticed with amusement that one man Lugo who had apparently thrown off Duro was helping her daughter down even as he smashed another rebel over the head with stick. Freyja had that affect on people she had noticed. The eleven year old did not even look contrite her brown eyes big in her face and her long hair down to her waist again.

“Sorry mother” she said finally. “But I did not wish to disturb fight besides had I not hit Lugo in back he would have choked father. Tis just a shame Spartacus was not watching my aim”

“You are not picking up sword Freyja” Diona repeated again. “Even if your father allowed Spartacus to sanction such a thing I would not and I can assure you I am more frightening than Duro is”

Naevia snorted. She had finally stopped trembling.

“We will not let them win” she said into Diona’s ear.

“No” Diona replied back. “We will help each other”

Naevia gripped her hand and Diona gripped back. The years between them were gone and replaced with this new determination. Now of course she had to speak to Duro. She owed him explanation of sorts for how she had been feeling and she wanted…no she needed affirmation of her love.

She was pulled roughly out of thoughts by the death of Sedullus and the soft sound his brain made as it fell upon sand.

Everyone went silent.

Everyone except.

“Fuck” Freyja said her eyes wide.

Diona despaired she really did.

That night Nasir took the girls to share shelter within temple. Agron opened mouth to argue then shut it again as the younger Syrian shot him a look. Nasir it seemed had a dim view of the average German warrior even after they swore alliance to Spartacus. Diona had checked Freyja’s cut lip as Duro had thrown a rock hard at Sedullus corpse so that it bounced of what was left of his head. Agron went with him looking exceptionally hang-dog. Cecelija was hanging off Nasir’s arm chattering away but before Freyja could move Lugo had blocked path in way that had Duro on his feet faster than Diona could blink.

He reached out and with a tenderness that was almost jarring he clicked one finger under Freyja’s chin.

“You afford well Little One” he said finally and his eyes were filled with a grief and a love that told Diona that once upon a time this man had, had children that had been taken away from him. “We shall make warrior of you yet”

“Not before time” Freyja said shaking her dark curls out of her eyes. “I do wish someone would teach me”

Lugo chuckled. “Ah perhaps someone will. Either way…I see you as no issue to our continued safety”

He looked as if he wanted to say something more and the pain in his eyes was so strong that Diona had to look away but then he walked away linking his arm around that blonde goddess Saxa who was watching with sympathetic eyes.

“He had five children” Duro muttered under breath so only she could hear as the girls wandered off. “All four of his sons fell to the Romans and his daughter died on passage, they threw her overboard. She was two years older than Freyja, he told me all of this as we were drinking. He fights well. I imagine however that seeing her is pain upon pain”

“Should we remover her from sight?” Diona asked concerned. Duro shrugged.

“It will change nothing” he said finally. “And he seems to draw strength from her. He is good man and great warrior. I…I do not think that we have anything to worry about”

Diona nodded though she had hardly heard him.

“Duro” she said turning to him. “We must hold much needed conversation”

Duro nodded his jaw setting in a way that Diona knew meant that he was trying to tamper down his emotions. She swallowed. She had to get through this and she had to face the man that she had lost heart to and she was damn fucking well going to do it with head held high. If Duro wanted to end their partnership over the fact that she did not know how to…well…she was going to tell herself that it did not mean the blame resided at her door, even if it did.

Duro led the way to secluded passage outside, as if knowing how much Diona hated the inside, so long trapped in the mines had given her an appreciation of the fresh air upon face. He turned to face her and Diona suddenly could not contain words within.

“I cannot make love”

Oh for fucks sake she mentally chided herself. Whatever it was that Duro had been expecting it was clear that that was not that. But there was a moment where he stood there his expression shocked. Diona ran a hand through her hair wincing as she tangled it in knots trying to think.

“I mean I know that we did but…it was different in mines it was clear and clean and…and now we are free it it…Duro I do not know how to do it. I only know what I figured out for months after brutal assaults and yes when I am with you I forget it all and I love you so much but I do not think I can be woman that you need. I do not think that I know what to do, and…and I love you enough for you to find what you need in other woman.”

There was a pause as she turned to look at Duro. Duro was staring at her surprised etched on his face. There was a long pause and Diona began to feel the self doubt kick in when Duro spoke.

“What the fuck?”

Diona started.

“Diona of all the fucked up—” he shook his head and then ran a hand over his face.

“Diona I do not want a woman who knows what she is doing in bed. If I wanted that I’d find a whore. I want you. I will always want you weather or our relationship is physical. As for letting me go? Did you really think that I would let you?”

“I am dirty Duro” she said suddenly unable to stop the tears that were coming down. “He’s dirtied me. He…he’s took pieces of me and I cannot take that back or get them back. And I am standing in the middle of a rebellion and I do not want to fight. I know that I have to learn how to fight but I…I am not the right person for a rebellion”

Duro reached out with a hand and then very slowly giving her cause to move away if heart desired curled it around her face so that she was forced to look him in the eye.

“I can teach you how to fight” he said finally. “And who knows? Maybe there will be a day where we do not need you to pick up sword. Right now we do but if rebellion grows there will be many more children that we can save and they too will need someone to fight for them. Let us finish this course of action with Glaber and then see what happens. If needs be we can leave. Agron will not begrudge me that even if he does not understand it. We are different men now he understands that too”

Diona nodded but before she could open her mouth to ask where this left us Duro did something she did not expect.

He sunk to his knees.

Diona stared at him feeling her heart slamming against her chest walls.

There was a pause where she stared at him and then Duro spoke.

“You are not dirty, you are not broken, you are not at fault, what happened to you was a violation and if I could I would kill that fucking piece of shit with bare hands, but I cannot, I cannot promise you the life that you deserve, I cannot promise you that we will survive this with our children. But what I can promise you is that I will love you and stand by you and adore you until the breath leaves my body. I can teach you pleasure and I can teach you what the touch of a man who loves you is like. I can show you how a good man treats a woman. I will spend the rest of my days doing that. If you want to leave me that would be…quite fair I suppose. But please never doubt my love for you or for the strength of your character. Trust me to keep you safe”

Diona swallowed the tears still falling down her face.

“I might never be able to give you a child” she confessed. “My courses are irregular at best and Cecelija’s birth was horrendous. I might never be able to give you a son or daughter of your own Duro”

Duro shrugged. “Diona there is a very good chance that we will die at some point and even if we do survive to live long and happy life together I think Freyja and Cecelija are more than enough.” His mouth quirked upwards a little as he thought about something amusing.

“Freyja is more than enough if one is being honest. Exhausting is another word for it”

Diona laughed wiping her eyes. Duro pressed kiss to her hand and stood up. For a second he stared at her and then when he kissed her it was soft and gentle and like a feather.

“I love you” she said finally accepting safety and security in embrace.

“I love you as well” Duro said finally. “Let us never forget that.”

Diona nodded. Perhaps it was time to let go of the ghosts of her past and move on into this new future with this man who loved her despite everything standing by her side.

Cecelija waited for a second to see if anything else would be said and then scrambled down off the ladder and landed in sand with all the grace of an eight year old. She ran through temple past sleeping individuals and then into small room where Freyja was wrapped up in the blankets Nasir and Agron in the corner curled around each other even though they claimed they were not ‘together’ in partnership.

Freyja who had been watching the light by the candles looked up when she saw her and opened the blanket so Cecelija could snuggle back down next to her.

“Well?”

“All is well. They have talked and are back upon same path.”

“Oh thank fuck for that” came a voice from the corner. Uncle Agron. Cecelija giggled.

“Agron” that was Nasir.

“Well…I can be sympathetic Nasir but only to a point. I remember Duro as child, he can be a sad fucker when he wants to be”

“Agron!”

“Good night girls” Uncle Agron said simply the hint of a smile in his voice.

Cecelija just giggled again, she felt her eyelids grow heavy and fell asleep, Freyja next to her and the knowledge in her mind that once again all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you are, next chapter will be published soon. 
> 
> Feedback is as always appreciated in more words than can be said.


	13. Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gannicus returns with a pregnant woman and the attitudes from the rebels cause issue with Diona, Diona and Oenomaus have a conversation that needs to be said. 
> 
> Freyja and Gannicus have a moment and Gannicus finds himself making a decision even if he doesn’t agree with course agreed upon (and it has nothing to do with that girl that will not leave him alone in his darkness that is his mind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, with the next one we will be halfway over this story (I think), as we continue to make our way through Vengeance, I expect possible two more chapters for this season and then two chapters (one will absolutely be just smut) between Vengeance and the War of the Damned arc. 
> 
> And there you are, I hope that you are enjoy this chapter and I will do my best to keep you all updated with the next one. Any issues about spelling, grammar or this kind of language and you all know the note that I usually leave--see the previous chapter. 
> 
> As always I own nothing of this wonderful TV show. All I do is play around with the characters. 
> 
> Please Read and Review.

It was nearly a weak or so since they had, had conversation. Diona was training with Duro though she found little joy in the work unlike Naevia who was delighted in learning how to fight. She had a sword that she did not like to use and a bow and arrow that she preferred even though the idea of fighting caused her heart to seize in chest. She spoke of this to Duro who in tern promised to take her concerns to Spartacus when opportunity presented itself.

Any chance they had to be alone disappeared as the week went by. The reality was that sleep came without hesitation due to exhaustion from fighting. Diona found that she had more muscles on her than before, her legs toned and the skin turning from the creamy white that it had been in both Ludus and Mines turning into a tanned brown and freckles appearing on her shoulder and arms. Duro took great delight in this and he seemed to hunt out new freckles to press lips to in the night until Diona was smiling and giggling into the darkness.

That was all the time they got because when they were not sharing indoor shelter with Agron or Mira or Naevia then they were spending night outside which was more preferable for them and the children who would whisper amongst self about the stars.

In all honestly Diona preferred it when it was just like that. The two of them did not do much more than kissing but she found with every kiss she was relaxing more. The idea of sinking to her knees and enveloping Duro’s cock in her mouth sent shivers down her spine as she thought of all the men she had gagged upon as they had laughed and mocked her. The thought of being pushed down and taken from behind reminded her of Cossutius in such a way she felt her whole body become icy. But she had never before laid in a man’s arms and had him tell her with words and actions that he had adored her. It had been something she had dreamt of when she was but yet a girl and Melitta had warned her not to rush into events beyond her control.

The knowledge that Melitta had, had an affair with Gannicus was shocking but not surprising. Diona thought back and acknowledged in conversation with Naevia that they had seen changes in their friends behaviour, they had both been fighting their own battles at the time. It changed nothing for them, Melitta had been a dear friend and always would remain as such but Diona found that she had wished she had been more of a friend to Gannicus who had lost best friend and woman that he had lost heart to all in the space of one agonising moment.

The chance to clear the air with Gannicus though came a week after the arrival of the Germans when there was a commotion outside the gates of would be shelter. It was mid morning and they had broken up for an hour to gain much needed rest. Diona was attempting to teach the children to read—well, Freyja mostly could but Cecelija needed some work on her letters and Lucius had some scrolls that they could practice on and some parchment and ink for writing. Diona looked up her dark hair falling over her shoulder to see Gannicus with an expression of deepest mistrust etched on face come through the gates followed by Mira who looked feral almost and Spartacus dragging a woman heavily pregnant with child and who was (if the way she was dressed was to go by) was Roman.

Diona felt herself get to her feet pressing the girls back a little away from the crush. Duro was there a heartbeat later and he reached for sword his hand on the hilt as the woman was dragged roughly inside to jeers from the crowd.

Another heartbeat later Agron was there his own face set into harsher lines than Diona had ever seen them.

“Who is that brother?” Duro asked his own tone harsher than Diona had heard it. She reached a little for the arm linking her fingers around the tight muscles and seeing the veins standing there. Freyja burrowed her head between them looking at her uncle with her wide eyes that seemed to take in knowledge with more speed than an eleven year old should have.

“That is Ilithyia. She is the wife of Glaber, he is the man that condemned Spartacus and his departed from this life—wife to slavery. He is also the man who has been sent here from Rome to kill us all”

“What is Spartacus going to do about her? Trade her for freedom?”

“Unlikely” Agron said with a snort. “The man blames Glaber for the death of his wife with a passion that I have never seen before even though it was Batiatus who killed her. he condemned her to slavery and a life of pain and rape and…well…” he said catching Diona’s eye.

“Apologises I did not mean to cause distress I meant…err...”

“Brother get on with it” Duro said his voice filled with exasperation, Agron nodded.

“I do not think letting her go is something Spartacus intends to do” he said finally.

Duro let out a hiss with his breath but Diona still did not understand.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Spartacus intends to kill her and the child” Freyja said.

“Freyja!” Duro snapped. “You must learn to control tongue or it will get you into trouble”

“I thought we could speak freely here?” Freyja snapped her head whipping up. Duro’s gaze softened a little as he looked at their obstinate girl in the eye.

“We can, but you must exercise caution least people find you unkind”

Freyja nodded suitably chastened and then moved to go back to sit with Cecelija.

“You are getting good at this parenting thing” Agron said with raised eyebrow. Duro grinned.

“Spartacus would kill child?” Diona asked wanting to hear it again.

“It’s not ideal I grant you” Agron said with a twist of his mouth. “But it is Spartacus’s decision. Glaber took his wife from him, now Spartacus get’s chance to do the same”

Diona shook her head. She did not even try to explain her own feelings on this. She did not think anyone would understand. She was she was painfully aware in this moment, the only one who had ever carried and raised babe of her own.

Gannicus had stepped into forest for cool air and meat. Spartacus had gone thank the Gods because Gannicus was not ready to admit that he could see man’s point of view nor that it had haunted him since he had left the last time. He did not want to see the people hanging from crosses in the town centre, he did not want to think of the cold look dearest friend had given him nor of the way he could still feel Melitta’s hair on his fingertips and the see the blood splattered upon her face as she gasped her last breath.

“Hello”

He nearly fell over.

He whirled around sword in hand to see that little twerp of a child Freyja watching him. She had grown a little bit fatter since the last time he had seen her—well she no longer looked like ghost child hi mother used to scare him with when he had yet been a free babe in homeland. Her hair was still lank and dark but it was tied in knot on top of her head and she was smiling at him as if she was thrilled to see him. Gannicus supposed she was the only one who was.

“Child if you wish to live, do not sneak up upon man when his back is turned”

“I just wanted to say hello” she pouted. “Honestly, I know I have all the tack of a sword through the back of the head but I do not think I am that bad”

Gannicus laughed despite himself. “Who told you that?”

“Uncle Agron.”

“Lumbering oaf is probably right” he said and was rewarded with a smile that showed perfect teeth.

“We have Germans with us now did you see?”

“Yes I saw”

“Saxa is impressed by you”

Gannicus remembered a lot of blonde hair and teeth giving him a rather interested look and vowed to explore that opportunity later.

“Is she?”

“Oh yes, are you part of rebellion now?”

“No”

“Oh. If you are here because you feel that Spartacus is going to kill babe then I do not think you will get what you wanted. I do not think he is type to commit such crime”

“Ah child there is no type to commit such an act as this. You have a long road ahead of you if you do not know what man is capable of when pushed to the brink”

“I do” she said quietly. “I was sold was I not?”

Gannicus shot her an apprising look. Perhaps there was hope for this one yet.

“I suppose” he said grudgingly.

“Can I come with you on hunt?”

Gannicus wanted to say no but he had feeling that child would just follow him anyway. Besides, his mind was too dark for him to be alone.

“Fine” he snapped. “But if you get killed I will not come to rescue”

Freyja said nothing but after a pause Gannicus offered her his knife. She took it with another small smile. Gannicus did not feel something inside him move at the sight. Those feelings were for idiots like Crixus not for men like him.

“You scared father and mother today. They were looking for you until Agron mentioned that you had gone with Gannicus. Then your mother said that was acceptable. I do not think father agreed with her but she has been in mood for most of the morning”

That was Saxa. Freyja turned to her but the blonde woman was not looking at her but at Gannicus with an apprising look in her eye. Freyja shrugged.

“She does not wish child in womb to be killed. Neither do I so that is why I am here”

“Oh that’s not going to happen” Saxa said confidently. “Spartacus has made deal with the husband for weapons. They are going tonight” she frowned. “Had I had steal I would be going with them”

She spat upon the ground.

“I know” Freyja said nodding. “They will not give me steal either”

Saxa laughed her eyes sparking. “Ah little one, I will get you some steal. You are the daughter of a man from Lands East of the Rhine, you cannot learn to fight on fucking bow and arrow alone. Warriors from your past will tremble in Valhalla at sight”

Freyja had little idea what those words meant but Saxa was at times to scary to contradict. Instead she just nodded.

“I do not approve of this” Duro said finally. Diona passed his him sword with an eyeroll.

“It Is harmless friendship, Gannicus does not seem to mind Freyja’s presence and I do not mind that either. He is good man”

“Oh is he?”

Diona looked at him and grinned feeling a wicked sense of humour flicker in her for the first time in time she no longer cared to count.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of him?” Duro shouted his voice going up an octave in a way that had Diona convulsing into giggles.

“Oh very funny” he said grabbing her by the waist. He hoisted her onto hip and she wrapped legs around his waist letting him kiss the hollow of her neck and then upwards until he found pulse point and sucked at it.

“Duro—oh for the Gods sake put her down”

That was Agron. Diona grinned as she gave Duro’s dreadlocked hair a sharp tug that had his hands tighten their bruising grip upon her arse.

“Brother…fuck off”

“Believe me I would if I could. I do not need to see such a horrible sight as you fornicating on the floor of temple Duro, however I do need you to put cock back between legs and help. You offered to be warrior detach yourself from woman and be one”

“You know” Duro said his tone muffled from where he was pressed into Diona’s throat. “When time arises brother I am so going to enjoy barging in on you and Nasir”

“Piss off”

“Cunt”

Diona rolled her eyes at the fact that the brothers were still the same despite all that went on and allowed herself to be dropped to the floor. She ran a hand across the harsh stubble of Duro’s jaw and pressed a kiss into it feeling it prickle against her skin.

“Come back” she said running a thumb down his jaw. Duro took the palm and kissed it meeting her eyes.

“Always” he said quietly. “You will never look for me and find me waiting angel” he pressed another kiss into the skin and Diona tried very hard not to melt at the way he was acting. No man had ever acted as if she was precious before.

“Ugh, you two are enough to turn stomach” came a reply from the entrance. Duro snorted.

“And how is Nasir today brother?”

Agron turned an alarming shade of red.

The fight—such as it was, was a complete and utter fuck up.

That was a rather enjoyable way of putting it. Duro did not know any other way. He had been stood next to Agron waiting for the moment that they would claim the weapons for the woman and not once did the man do so. He moved from shadows into light and Duro saw that he was only a decade or so older than they were but he had none of the depth of feelings towards his wife and unborn child that he would have had in that situation. Hell had it been Diona alone he would have crawled over broken glass to achieve an opportunity to see her safe.

This man seemed to care for nothing.

Duro could not understand, the very concept eluded him.

Naturally it all turned to shit.

He stabbed his sword into a solider using his elbow to take down a second. Training with his brother (who took no mercy) seemed to have helped remember the training that he had forgotten as a slave within mines. He took down three more before Agron with a touch at his shoulder told him in the way they had effortlessly been able to communicate (before they had been separated) that they were retreating.

Crixus, Spartacus and Mira remained to see all to safety of the rebels and he moved back with Agron so that they were standing in the shadows moving backwards. Gannicus winked at him as he ran past, his eye on Oenomaus who was still wincing despite having proven himself worthy with sword.

Then Spartacus was there, Crixus and Mira, Lucius was not amongst them and Duro knew what that meant. But he allowed himself to be pushed backwards, back to Diona, back to his children, back to love.

Duro did not want to mention it but he thought that he should just to make sure…

“Brother—Nasir—you are—”

“Oh you are really choosing now, to mention this?”

“Yes…is he your Diona…I mean…is he…are you sure you have lost heart to him?”

“I am”

The conviction in his brothers voice was enough for Duro to nod with compliance before they were running through the streets of whatever shithole they were in. All he needed to know was that the man that his brother had chosen to loose heart to was in this for the long game. It was the same question Duro had no doubt that his brother had asked off Diona.

Why they were choosing this moment was beyond Duro—he supposed that it was down to the choice of the gods, or the love for his brother that was not going to go away.

Either way. He wanted to be back to the shelter, to Diona, to his children.

Did that make him weak?

Duro did not think so, he think it made him human.

Also that bastard that was Gannicus made him want to hurl sword in direction of his head.

But that was strictly between himself and his Gods.

Diona had been sat at the edge of the temple.

She had woken up late.

She had not intended to but the girls had crawled out from under her and she had been woken by slumber by Oenomaus who had touched her on shoulder and had told her that it was time for training.

Perhaps it was because she wanted nothing more to sleep than anything, perhaps she wanted nothing more than Duro to be here. Perhaps it was because of this that she spoke.

“Oenomaus”

He turned.

“She loved you” Diona continued as if the stricken look on his face was not there.

“She loved you above all others, and had Naevia and I not been as trapped as we were then we would have been able to see what we would have stopped. I just…do not punish him for events beyond his control…she was yours…she was always yours.”

Oenomaus turned so that they were staring at each other, Diona who was not the slave girl she had once been refused to back away from his gaze. He was still the husband of the woman she had always loved and respected as big sister if not mother. Love always hurt, she did not have to tell Oenomaus this. He already knew. He had seen it enough times, she could see it within his eyes.

“Give him some peace” she cautioned speaking of Gannicus. “We cannot afford for a divide between us. Even I know that and I do not wish to raise sword. But he is good man, my children trust him, for peace of mind please adopt same stance.”

She turned her attention back to her children.

She did not see reaction.

When her man came home, she was there.

When Duro came to her, he wrapped arms around her and Diona hugged him back feeling the line of the man that she loved press against her. It was the first time that she had reached for him and she felt him sag a little against him even though both girls hit him at his hip chattering away, Freyja about her day learning the bow with Saxa (and more than few choice words that she had also picked up) and Cecelija about her letters that she had been using, so much so that she only noticed out of the corner of one eye the fact that Spartacus his expression as cold as ice moving the woman and the babe out of the temple into the shadows.

She did not strain herself to respond to such events.

She was a mother first and foremost, even if Roman woman did not think of herself in such regard, Diona was not going to stop self from considering self.

He could not do it.

Weather or not he wanted to do it was irrelevant, he could not kill babe weather or not it was his own (and if it was he was not going to dwell upon because…because…because…no…Spartacus could not…) he could not do it.

Spartacus sat awake that night for a long time, his eyes found the two children that were sleeping there on the ground like babes.

He could not have killed that baby.

He supposed Sura would agree with him.

When sleep claimed him it was with that smile in front of his eyes.

The smile of his wife, the smile of Diona.

The smile of a mother.

When Spartacus woke he did not remember anything.

It was just another day.

It was the last day.

But he did not know that.

Nobody knew that.

It was what saved them in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And feedback as always is adored.


	14. Faith, Hope, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As tensions between themselves and the German warriors grow to fruition, Spartacus tries to bring together a peace accord. 
> 
> However as the festivities are in full swing events are put in motion that see the rebel army on the run. 
> 
> Also Duro and Diona share a rather (smutty) moment, Agron is a wonderful uncle and Freyja finally gets the chance to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, this is the longest that I have written for this story and therefore I hope you enjoy it. Please be aware however that his chapter includes a sex scene between Duro and Diona--If you do not wish to read that then I suggest that you skip it. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just this chapter and these characters--there might be some historical inaccuracy that comes with the food and the language as always as well as spelling and grammar. 
> 
> A few Trigger Warnings in this chapter, death, blood, mentions of rape and a child taking active part in a killing if this offends you I would skip the next few chapters. 
> 
> And this is the penultimate chapter of Vengeance as well

The night after the woman was let go they slept under the stars. Agron had a look on his face when he bade the girls goodnight that Duro did not like but his brother as usual preferred not to elaborate. When they went to sleep he chose to put the children in the middle and if he kept his sword with reach of his hand then that was between him and the gods that he had long ago believed did not exist. 

The call came out sometime in the morning when the Gods had not yet shown their faces but when the night would soon be becoming the sun. It was Naevia who shouted and the terror in her voice would have forced Duro awake even if It had not been the word that she had uttered. 

“Romans!” 

He was awake in seconds, he caught the blurred stare of Diona, her countenance still mused with sleep and within a heartbeat he saw the brown eyes of the woman that he loved sharpen with the ever present situation. She stared at him but Duro was half over her, her sword clutched firmly in his hand rolling despite the ache in his muscles with the movement that had been ingrained in him since birth. 

“Girls, tunnel now” he barked and Diona moved without even spending glance at him (as he wanted when her life was at risk) instead moving backwards pushing Cecelija and Freyja behind her both of whom looked frightened and white faced. Saxa moved to follow and Duro took up position to fight taking on the one that for reasons unknown moved to subdue him, why then there were other stronger warriors around like Oenomaus, Duro did not know but he noticed even as he flipped like fish in net to twist Roman around that there was no sight of his brother, Spartacus or Crixus. There was another movement and he saw fire out of the corner of his eye but all attention was focused on keeping the Roman who seemed to share intent on fighting him from getting to where Diona was hiding sword in hand (he hoped). 

“Enough!” 

And there was Spartacus in Roman grab, Crixus beside him and just like that Duro knew who the other Roman holding his neck was. Agron removed helmet with a sheepish expression, Duro kneed him though he doubted that it did much good what with the armour protecting him. 

Diona came to stand by him her expression tense with worry but she rolled eyes at the sight of them tugging on Duro’s hand so that any thought of throttling his brother was swiftly silenced by the girls who came forwards, Freyja with a furious expression as if she did not approve of hiding while all were fighting and Cecelija with a look that told Duro she wanted to go back to slumber and sleep until the morning was far gone. 

Spartacus was trying to explain that they needed to focus attention on strengthening their defences, especially considering they had managed to gain advantage in such a short while and Duro half agreed though his body was aching with adrenaline after being forced from sleep by such rude awakenings. He moved to get food for morning meal, Agron followed with a rather mulish expression. 

“Apologies brother, but we should work on your defences, what you thought you were doing with my arm I do not know. Apart from hanging on like child” 

“Fuck you” Duro snapped reaching for the bread that they still had. Soon they would need more food. “I could fight and win against you any time or any day.” 

“Challenge accepted” 

Of course, challenge did not go on for long. Diona had been sat with Nasir who was furious about being caught unaware by deception and had taken to throwing Agron some very nasty looks. Agron managed to look rather hang-dog whenever he caught Nasir’s eye though Diona noticed with amusement that when he went back to sparing with his brother he turned to grinning like child. 

The girls were studying their letters again with chalk upon stone. Freyja knew most of them but her attention was more on Saxa who was whirling around Mira with two small daggers in such a way that it was hard to tell where the weapons were on her persons. Freyja who could read and write was clearly not interested though Cecelija was working hard. Diona meanwhile watched her own sword at her hip. She had been fighting with Naevia who was improving as each day increased. Diona could now hold a sword and she could thrust forwards and kill as much as the idea displeased her, she preferred the bow if she was being honest but Duro would roll his eyes whenever she would voice this opinion and tell her that the bow was hardly a weapon. Diona ignored him, quite frankly the bow was more than she wanted to use. 

“Freyja” came a voice and she turned to see Gannicus with knife in hand. Diona felt her heart sink surely to the Gods he was not going to do what she thought he was going to do. Freyja scrambled up her dark hair sticking to her shoulders. At some point she was going to have to find a way to get the children washed.

“Focus gaze on the target on the wall with bows, then thrown this knife. Let’s see how you go.” 

Diona raised an eyebrow as Freyja without looking back scrambled of perch. 

“I asked Duro” Gannicus said with wink. “Besides…what harm could throwing knives accomplish?” 

“Only a Gladiator would say something of that nature.” Diona said her voice laced with sarcasm. Gannicus winked at her again and Diona could see some of the man she had foolishly adored and fantasised about. Well they had all fantasised about it him had they not? 

“Only when we were all young and foolish” Naevia said next to her taking sip of water. “And yes you spoke aloud” 

“Cannot blame you,” Nasir said from corner. “He does have a way” 

“No he does not” came an irritated voice from behind them and Diona turned to find Duro, Agron and Crixus standing looking utterly irritated. Diona resisted the urge to giggle though Nasir started laughing unbidden at the look of indignation on Agron’s face. 

“Ah you have decided to stop showing up brother?” 

“I think you will find I was showing up him, though not surprising considering I am the younger one. Agron here is showing his age” 

“You little shit I am only two years older than you” 

“Ugh” that was Crixus who was staring at the brothers bickering with a disgusted expression. Naevia allowed gaze to latch onto Diona’s and the two women shared smiles. The rivalry between Agron and Crixus and therefore (to some small extent) between Duro and Crixus had kept them both entertained since they had all been reunited. 

Naevia bade her goodbyes and followed Crixus to the sands where he was trying to train her to block her blows better. Diona sighed and resigned herself to learning the bow again when there was a cry from the corner. 

“Fucking hell” 

“Oh fuck the Gods” Duro said with an eyeroll. “I agreed to let Gannicus teach her how to throw a knife so she felt included. Now he and Saxa are teaching her to block blows with daggers which are as far as eye can see are really small metal sticks” 

Diona laughed. 

“I feel that even if we survive conflict with Glaber then Freyja will be death of us” 

“I will not be death of you Father” Cecelija said from where she was scribing her name in the dust at her feet. Duro cracked a smile reaching out so that the eight year old was pulling into his side. Diona felt her heart lift at the sight of her daughter with the only father she would ever know (and thank the Gods for the small mercies such as that). Cecelija was not the fighter that her sister wanted so desperately to be. She instead was a little girl who wanted nothing more to do than to have a hot bath and a scroll about frivolously girls her own age to enjoy time with. 

Duro wrapped one arm around Cecelija and caught Diona’s eye. He seemed to understand in that way that he always did when she was dwelling on the past and he winked at her making the blush come readily to her cheeks. 

“Father…I don’t have to fight will I?” 

“Oh no little one. I imagine once your sister has completed her task then I doubt there will be very little Romans left in this world” 

Diona turned her snort of laughter into a severe cough. 

“Wagon approaches” that was Gannicus who was now sitting upon wall overlooking temple. Freyja was sat with her back to the wall sharpening a dagger—well Diona would not hold out hope that it was stick—Duro was up on the wall faster than she could force self to feet. 

“Agron leads it” Nasir called out his face creased with worry. Diona had not noticed that Agron had left them—she supposed that that was not the best warrior in the whole rebellion if she had not realised that Agron had gone on errand for Spartacus. 

As if gift from Gods the other man appeared by her side. 

“Duro has spoken to me about role in rebellion” he said quietly. Diona turned to look at him her apology on her face but she was surprised to see that he was smiling. 

“Soon Diona I have plans for this—soon I will carve out role for you that requires you to be deep friend and confident but not fighter. I do believe that there are all kinds of fighters. Not all carry swords. As far as I am concerned it does not diminish the worth carried by you nor anyone who decides not to be me.”

Diona swallowed before reaching for his hand, grasping it and trying to convey her feelings towards the offer that he was giving her. She did not know if Spartacus understood—she liked to think that he did but she apricated gesture nonetheless. She let go and stared away from him certain she would start tears falling if she looked at the face of the man who had helped her gain her freedom. 

“And do not worry about Freyja. I do not intend for her to be in front line of battle anytime soon” 

“Do not let her overhear opinion” Diona said with a smile. “Gratitude Spartacus indeed…for all that you have done…not many gladiators would accept children into a makeshift army and do his best to keep their innocence intact” 

“I fear that that will not last” Spartacus said no hint of humour in his voice. “Indeed I fear that soon we must face Glaber and the children will be a part of that fight. But I cannot turn from any man, woman or child who seeks freedom here. Soon if plans come to fruition I will need someone to teach them, to see them fed and to bed and to care for them if their mother and father cannot. Perhaps that is a role that you can fulfil. But for now I must try and ensure everyone gets some of the wine and the food Agron has liberated” 

And he was gone before Diona could do so much as blink at his retreating back. 

Wine and food turned out to be bountiful. Agron had outdone himself in attempt to see them all provided for and mood returned to better spirits. He had brought meat, chicken and boar, ducks and rabbit all of which was roasted over fire. He had brought loaves upon loaves of fresh bread, cheese in huge wheels, milk in warm wooden jugs, butter in small packages, fruit and perhaps the one thing that Diona had always wanted to try but had never been allowed due to lowly status of slave. The dark slab of chocolate that was extremely rare. 

Diona did not think this came from wagon changed upon road, if she was being honest with self she thought that Agron and the others who had accompanied him had raided villa though where they had found one of those she did not want to think, she did not want to wonder where the parchment and the ink came from, or the shoes that were presented to the girls, the steel presented to Spartacus, the silk blankets, the fabric Agron hid and then of course the gifts. 

For Cecelija he had brought rolls upon rolls of parchment and charcoal and Cecelija had immediately sat down on the edge of the temple steps practically dancing with joy to draw the pictures of the rebels. For Freyja he had liberated an actual bow made of a dark cherry wood with an dark quiver filled with arrows that were made with a smoother wood. Freyja had gone very quiet when she had seen it—unusually quiet and then had flung both her arms around Agron’s waist. Diona had watched with amusement and more than a little tenderness at the gentle way Agron’s hand came to rest upon head of her daughter and the way they interacted. 

But then immediately Freyja became distracted by food. 

It felt good to eat a full meal something Diona had not done in years. She tried to make sure the girls ate a balanced meal but there was no stopping them. Fresh bread coated in butter and wine (well watered so it was like a cordial) and the cheese added to it. Huge chunks of rabbit and strips of duck, twice Diona had to admonish Cecelija who was eating as if starving rabid animal with her teeth (though she noted most of the German slaves were doing the same—Saxa was working away at a chicken leg in a way that was almost indecent) and that was before the rest of the rebels got a hold of the wine. The taste was something she had never really indulged in before. Melitta had always tried to share cup between the two of them whenever she had managed to sneak it but they had always been afraid of being caught. Now she had a cup (or two) in front of her and a man on her arm who was laughing and she though that perhaps she could let go of the two girls that she had once been, the lovesick girl and the broken woman. 

“Are you sure girls should be drinking so much?” she asked as Duro pulled her half onto his lap and was pressing lazy kisses that made shivers run through her. 

“Ah it’s well watered, Lugo made sure of that. Besides it is good for them to enjoy self. All we need is a bath and a change of clothes and they might actually begin to resemble children and not starving animals. Cecelija and the rabbit legs did not distinguish between two” 

Diona laughed at the remembrance of her daughter eating and stood up pulling Duro with her so that they were back in shade of temple near where Ilithyia had been held. There Diona pushed him back against the wall and kissed him. Weather it was the wine of the fact that she had seen Naevia go into her own room with Crixus ten minutes earlier she did not know but she knew that she wanted to let go of the desperate woman she had been in the mines and wanted to know how it was to be with a man that she respected and loved and who loved and respected her. 

She was ready. 

It was a heady piece of knowledge. 

Duro’s mouth came down on her and she slammed them together moving mouths and moulding tongues together, her arms came around his shoulders so that they were pressed so close together so that it was hard to tell which one was which. Duro’s hands came around to grasp her arse and she wrapped both her legs around his waist. 

“Apologies” Duro said wrenching their mouths away from each other. “I know that you are not ready—” 

“No” Diona said reaching for the plaited locks of hair and giving them a tug, Duro rolled his eyes in response like cat being petted, Diona felt the urge to giggle. 

“Minx” Duro said in response. Diona giggled again. 

“I do not think I am ready for everything,” she warned. Memories of being forced down on cock and having her arse split in two came to front of mind unbidden and she pushed them back resolutely. “I…I might be selfish with your own pleasure and for that I apologise but…but Duro I am ready for you to show me how a good man loves his woman” 

Duro stared at her his eyes half blown in the darkness. “Good” he said. “And my pleasure is your pleasure, you are my soul remember? Let me show you” 

He pushed her back into the room and onto the stone table his hand finding the clasp that was keeping the rags that were covering self up and she watched as his mouth came down on her neck his hand finding her breast.

“Close your eyes” Duro said against her skin. “Close your eyes my angel, banish thoughts and just feel me” 

Diona let her eyes flutter shut and then Duro’s mouth came down on her breast suckling at her in a way that had her back arching and her mouth opening, he did the same for the other breast and then he came down her bellybutton kisses being pressed all the way until he came to her sex. 

Suddenly the nerves were back coating the desire she felt in ice. She could remember Cossutius casually inserting finger before remarking that her cunt was the tighter. It had hurt then, it had been a sharp, strange intrusion and had led to the worse moment of her life. 

“Not fingers?” Duro murmured looking up at her and reading her face. 

Diona tried to find the words. “Cossutius” she said with a shudder. “He said my cunt was tight…when he stuck…” and then she shuddered again. 

“That fucker” Duro growled looking dangerous, the most dangerous Diona had seen him as. “He should thank the gods that Spartacus ended his life quickly and cleanly with spear. Had I got to him…” he shook his head and then stood up. 

“We can stop” 

“No” Diona said shaking her head. “I will not let him win Duro, I need this, I need to let go of this and I want it, you have no idea how much I want your touch…now will you please get your mouth back on me!” 

Duro snorted and then started laughing. “As you wish my empress.” He said and then he bent down. “Let me try something else” he said and then after a heartbeat where he thought about something—though what and why this moment in time Diona could not think—and then his mouth came down on her. 

She nearly arched off the slab in surprise. Duro chuckled and the vibration made her spread her legs a little bit wider as she gasped. She had never felt anything like this before. Pleasure like this was not something she had experienced in her life. It was intoxicating. 

Duro bent his mouth and continued his ministrations. Diona had no idea what he was doing but her eyes fluttered closed again and her hands found his hair again tugging whenever anything felt good, each time she did however Duro moaned and the vibrations made her moan in response. Apparently, hair pulling increased arousal. Diona made inward note—or she would have if she was capable of thought. 

Something inside her was coiling in her belly and she felt an urge that she had not felt before even in those hasty encounters in the mines which had been more about survival than pleasure of any kind. She gripped onto that feeling and Duro tighter feeling her voice rise with pleasure and then when the feeling inside of her exploded she knew that for the first time in a long and painful life she had her first orgasm and she felt alive in a way she had not felt before. 

Duro’s head came up from between her legs and his mouth was glistening with…_her_…and that thought made Diona’s breath escape from her. She gasped her whole body trembling with the aftershocks and Duro slid up to take her in his arms twisting his hand a little as he took himself in hand and brought himself to a quick release. Diona watched him her eyes watching his cock. She found herself wondering what it would be like to hold, to taste, to have in her again and had to look away as colour flooded her cheeks. Thinking about such things was different from actually doing them. She moved gaze to Duro’s face and the expression etched upon bones and skin was something that she would not forget and suddenly had the urge to see every second of every day. She drank it up greedily watching as he brought himself to release. 

Once release was done and hands were clean Duro pressed kiss to her cheek. 

“You looked beyond words” he muttered. “Diona when you are in the throes of pleasure you blaze with such fire you would rival all the Gods in all the worlds.” 

Diona snorted, some feeling was coming back to knees. “You flatter. You should see yourself when cock is in hand and you are bringing yourself to edge of the pleasure.” 

Duro kissed her again. “I hope I did well” he asked looking for a moment impossibly shy. Diona kissed him. 

“I have never had a climax like that, I have never been able to feel like that. You are magnificent” 

“I have been told that” Duro said seriously before laughing. He stood up fastening cloth around his cock and reached with a hand to pull her to her feet. She dressed again wincing at feel of fabric. “I need a new dress” she said forlornly. “Soon this will not cover breasts” 

“You say such things like they are bad” Duro said grinning as he pulled her from the room and back into the sunlight. 

Fighting had broken out. Mock fighting by the sounds of it to repair relationship. Duro raised an eyebrow but did not comment. The girls were sat on edge of steps calling out encouragement as Mira and Saxa fought two German rebels. There was a pause as she moved to sit with them. Cecelija immediately curled next to her on one side and Freyja leaned on her shoulder her cup loose in her hand. Diona did not know weather or not that was because of the wine or anything else. Freyja was not the most cuddly of children, she did not warm well to others and while she called her mother Diona had always been aware that another woman had once held that moniker who had given her life to protect this precious little child that was so much older than she used to do. 

Spartacus called the next to fighters as Lugo passed her a cup of wine. Diona nearly spat it out as he named Crixus and Agron to fight against Oenomaus and Gannicus. She shot Spartacus a look that she knew was questioning his sanity. Duro next to her snorted. 

Detaching herself from both children she went to stand by Naevia and Mira as the fighting continued. Diona did not know enough to about the fighting to comment on who was winning but she knew that the same smile on Naevia’s face was echoed on hers. Mira smiled at them and then detached herself turning away before her face fell into lines of misery. 

“Spartacus and her have decided to part” Naevia said shortly. Diona did not comment. Mira had never wavered in politeness to her and she was not going to sound harsh about a woman whose heart had been broken. But she had wondered how long Mira would get away unscathed from trying to end the woman, the babe and the history she clearly had with Spartacus. 

“You are grinning like idiot who has been kissed for the first time” she said finally. Naevia shot her an appraising kind of look. “You too, Duro?” 

“Not the whole event but heart it mended” 

“As is mine and I did the whole, ‘event’” 

“Do you recall what Melitta use to say about bruised petals?” Diona said finally. 

“Yes” Naevia said her face beaming still. “And we would have done well to listen to her. But here we are, still alive, still fighting, still breathing” 

“And with good men at our sides and freedom on our lips” 

“I think she would have been proud” Naevia said smiling. 

“Amused I think” Diona said grinning. 

And suddenly the two of them were hugging. There was a pause where they stood there hugging out all the fear and all the pain that they were going through and then when they pulled back it was to see the men had stopped fighting and all four of them were now friends. 

“Men” Naevia said simply. “One cannot live with them but…”

“We cannot live without them” Diona finished. 

Naevia went with a smile to her man and she went with a smile to her man who was watching his brother with amusement. 

Diona kissed him on the back of the neck feeling him lean a little backwards towards her. She took in the girls, Cecelija who was nearly asleep and Freyja who was doing a good job of pretending her body was not racked with tiredness. It had been a long day. It seemed strange to think that only this morning Spartacus had woken them all up dressed as Roman. Today it seemed had been golden.

“Girls” she said softly. “Bed” 

It felt like her head had only just hit pillow before Duro was shaking her awake. 

“Up now” 

There was something in his voice that had her awake and scrambling upwards her whole body aware and alert. Duro had a look on his face and that told her all she needed to know. She had seen that look only once before.

“Romans?” she asked. 

“Yes” he replied tersely, “Hundreds, we need to go, get the girls, get some supplies and make for the back wall, if needs be go through the tunnel and I will follow” 

Diona opened her mouth but did not know what to say. Duro nodded his face creased in both anticipation for the fight and sadness for the farewell. “You will never look for me and find me waiting Diona, I will always try to find way back to you” he kissed her determination to get this parting over with and she tried to show all that she felt for him. All that she had ever been since she had met him. Duro moulded their mouths together and then pressed their foreheads together for a time until there was a crash from above. 

“Go” he said finally. 

Diona got the girls awake and dressed. Freyja grabbed her bow and Cecelija her parchment and charcoal sticks. Diona packed the food and the cloaks and blankets and deposited them with the older rebels who would take them out through the tunnel until danger had passed. 

There was another crash and a shout from Saxa. 

“Roman’s here” 

Diona felt her stomach collapse, if they had breached the defences then that must mean that the men who had gone out to met them had been…killed…

No…she would not believe that. She did not believe that Duro could slip from this world without her knowledge. She caught sight of Naevia who was clutching bow who looked terrified at thought but before she could move Mira was there bow in hand. 

“I need Freyja upon roof shooting arrows at Romans” 

Diona stared at her. 

“You do not” she said her voice suddenly furious. 

“I do. Diona she is good with a bow, she hits target and I need all help I can gain” 

“Mira she is but a child” 

“I can help” Freyja said.

“No you can not” 

“Yes mother…” and it was that word that made her turn to see the girl she had always considered a daughter and yet had always been Duro’s more than she had been hers. The dark eyes were resolute and the face pale but there was something in her that made in that moment Diona aware more than anything that Freyja had a past and secrets within that past that she had not divulge, that she had, had a mother and had seen her die, had been past around house after house before the mines and had not commented on treatment that she had suffered. There was very little child left in this eleven year old, the Romans had chipped away at her. There was nothing left, and that made Diona feel so much fury that her vision turned red. 

And as much as she hated it she knew that one way or another Freyja would go and fight, she could either know what her daughter was doing or she could slip away into the night and then where would they be? And she knew better than most that you could not shield a child from something just because it was unpleasant, she had learnt that when she had held her baby to her breast and prayed the guards did not see one more small life in the darkness of the mines. 

“Mira, if there is so much of a scratch—” 

“I am aware, the Roman’s anger and bloodlust will be unparallel to yours” 

Diona did not want to do it, but she did not see much of a choice. 

There was another crash and a scream. Diona pressed a kiss into the mess of dark hair that she had never seen clean. 

“Do exactly what Mira tells you and no more” she said. “I love you” 

“I love you too...mother…” 

Diona blinked feeling something indescribable rise in her. She had to swallow back her feelings as Freyja ran off. 

“She will be fine” Naevia murmured. “She survived the mines remember” 

Diona snorted but she hurried to assumed position. 

Freyja knocked off another arrow, she thought that she had hit most of them but she was not sure. She was also trying to not look. She had never thought that it would be like this. She had not been sure of what the war, this war, would be like once she was over threshold she had been standing upon but she had not thought it would be like this. The systematic killing of people on both sides. 

She would not think about the fact that it reminded her of her old master dispatching her mother and her friends to the afterlife and then selling her off with two waves of his hand. Her own began to shake as she thought of it and she had to gulp a deep breath in before she reloaded her shot. 

Soon Mira held up hand and the shooting stopped. Spartacus was calling them down. Allowing a hand to be helped off the roof she followed them. Diona and Duro were standing together both of them covered in blood. Cecelija was also sat there, Diona smiled at her and Freyja smiled back decidedly not thinking about her slip up. It was one thing to think of Diona as her mother and another to speak to those thoughts aloud. 

Fuck, feelings were confusing. 

She had made it halfway across the courtyard ignoring the Roman general issuing orders (he was far less important to her than the thoughts swirling around her head) when she heard the screaming, she turned to see something flying towards her. She had a second where she thought stupidly that the heavens had opened up and it was the end of the world and that they were all going to the afterlife before someone pulled her backwards and the ball of fire exploded killing the general. 

“Kallia!” came a shout and Freyja stared upwards in shock at Lugo who was seeing without seeing and staring at her as if her face belong to someone else. He had grabbed her and thrown her backwards as her elbow protested to those events. She stared at him as he came back to self and she saw the pain in his eyes. She had almost forgotten that Lugo had lost child months ago to Roman cruelty and that in that moment he might have seen someone else in the dark haired Freyja who had not registered that she was in danger. 

Shit. 

She did not have time to think upon this however as in that moment she was forced upwards Duro next to her in a flash and she was being forced unceremoniously through tunnel and onto a rock of a mountain death marching behind them. 

Duro caught Diona’s eye as they finally came to stop upon top of mountain, they were trapped but they were alive and he found that he could live with this for the night even if the morning presented new opportunities and new dangers. 

Cecelija had curled up immediately on the ground in shock, Saxa with a gentleness that Duro had not seen covered her with a blanket. Freyja was clutching her bow her eyes wide but she was still speaking to Diona’s questions. The adrenaline would wear off eventually Duro knew. Diona covered in soot and blood her eyes overbright caught his eyes and smiled. Duro forced a smile back even as he moved to Agron’s side to see what could be done in the small moments to help. 

They were alive, he repeated to self, they were alive, they were all alive. 

The rest he knew, could wait until dawn crested the mountain and morning was upon them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is adored. 
> 
> And I will try and update sooner rather than later.


	15. The Girl Who Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebels try to survive their stand against Glaber. 
> 
> Freyja learns the true cost of war, her role in this new family and a conversation between her and Lugo opens her eyes to the world that she know lives in. 
> 
> Diona and Naevia take on Asher. 
> 
> Duro and Diona reaffirm what they have always known and finally an army is formed with intent turned firmly towards the might of Rome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so here is another chapter, I hope you all enjoy this one and I hope you are all well as can be in the current climate wherever you are. I will continue to update this story until it is finished and I hope to update sooner rather than later now we are out of Vengeance. 
> 
> (Also some backstories are created here and I also wanted to write Diona helping Naevia kill Asher because while that scene was incredible in Vengeance I find the fact that the two women were able to defeat a man that raped Naevia and was certainly known to Diona as an all out creep rather compelling), so yeah a few changes there) 
> 
> And on that note-and end to the Vengeance arc. I have planned two filler chapters to explain events between the two series and then we are straight onto War of The Damned for the final chapters. 
> 
> Disclaimer-As I always say none of these amazing characters (bar my OCs) are my own, spelling and grammar are not my greatest strong suit and this language is always difficult to write in. 
> 
> Please read and review.

Within a week it was clear that they were in dire fucking straights. Freyja had known that and she had tried to keep self safe as much as possible. With each day their supplies dwindled and she found that the feeling of a full stomach went back to just being that. A feeling. 

She slept under the stars and tried not to listen to the grumblings of the men and women around her. Spartacus was attempting to bring them together and Freyja had never thought that he had failed before though she knew that soon they would have to take the fight to Glaber and that surely would mean death for her, her sister, her mother and father. 

When she thought about this she had to sit up and blink back tears. She had never had to think about death in the way it was presented to her now. Sometimes despite how she acted and how she thought, she found she was still the same eleven year old that she was. 

In these moments she thought of her mother, of her actual mother. She had been seven when they had been parted and she had spent the years after that being past around as a slave too small to arouse desire and too small to be useful. The mines had come when her old Domina had ensured that she too pay for the sins of her mother. She could not even remember the woman that well. Freyja thought that her mother had, had dark hair and dark eyes but she could not remember the touch or the smell of her, the warmth and the safety and the security that she had so desperately tried to hide. 

Any thoughts towards a role and a moniker of mother had become attached to Diona. 

She thought about what that meant and she paused rolling over the stones of the mountain digging into her sides and back. What did that mean to her? She had lost one mother in this lifetime, was it so bad if she accepted another? Would her own mind so much? 

She sighed sitting up. All of rebellion had fallen into uneasy sleep and she paused seeing one figure standing out in the shadows his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. She thought for one endless second that it was Spartacus but she could see him slumbering against Mira the tension in his shoulders even in sleep. Agron and Nasir were curled together, Crixus and Naevia, even Gannicus had fallen to slumber and she noticed that he was near Saxa who had her blonde hair spread out across the ground. She paused watching Duro and Diona sleeping, Cecelija curled between them and then she moved closer to Lugo who was sat upon edge of cliff looking out towards the grounds. Freyja paused her blanket around her waist and then she forced herself onto her feet and went to sit next to him. Lugo continued to stare out over the edge of the cliff but Freyja knew that he knew that she had taken place by his side. 

“It is hard to believe that those pricks of light are really people who wish us dead” she said finally looking at the torches in the distance. Lugo snorted and then finally seemed to gather courage to speak. 

“Did your father tell me what happened to my family Little One?” 

Freyja shook her head. 

“I had four sons and a daughter two years older than you. And a good woman by my side. A home, land, bountiful food and wine on the table. Oh there was not much coin to be had and we were not rich, but I had a family to come home too. Food on the table. Family. And then…then they came for us. The Romans. They came for our land and I could not stop my boys from fighting even if I wanted to. My wife took up arms with me, my daughter stayed to help the wounded. And when I looked around at end of battle…they were dead, all of them, bar my daughter who was clapped in chains, but she was wounded and young and weak…and she died in passage, I kept her as close to me as I could but they threw her overboard. I could not do anything to stop events happening. I wanted nothing more to do than to die with them, and yet I am alive” 

Freyja did not know why he was telling her this or what was worse. The words spilling from mouth creating events as pictures in her head or the deadened tone he was using to describe them. Suddenly him calling her by another name made sense in a way that nothing ever did. She swung her legs over the edge of the cliff and stared down at the black jagged rocks beneath her. 

“I should apologise for calling you something else. In the heat of the moment…all I saw was—” 

“You do not have to explain actions to me” Freyja said finally. “You do not have to explain anything to me. I understand” she did not of course, how could one understand losing all of their family in such a cruel manner? She had been too young to understand loss of mother, now she wished she had remained in that ignorance instead of picking open wound with dirty fingernails. 

There was a long pause as she still sat there and then she spoke voicing thoughts to the heavens. 

“My mother was made pregnant by her master. I am half Roman. I was sold when I was seven because my Domina found out about dalliance and that I had survived. My mother was killed as punishment and I was sold continually until I ended up in mines. I…I was not touched, but I knew it was coming so I did not care, I never knew my father so Duro assuming role did not matter but I did know mother and sometimes…sometimes I feel strange about Diona—like accepting her as mother would seem like a betrayal even if birth mother did not feel like a real mother…does that make any sense?” 

Lugo sighed looking out over horizon. 

“Yes” he said finally. “It does. But speaking as parent, had I died and someone had stepped in to stand as father figure to my daughter then I would have been grateful that they received the love and care that I could no longer give them. I think if your mother was of much the same mind then she would not begrudge you some motherly love. Life in this world is hard and you need people to stand by your side.” 

There was a pause where they sat there and then Freyja leaned her head against his shoulder. She did not comment on the fact that Lugo had not told her she was going to survive this. She did not think if that was better or worse. It seemed cruel that she had just found the place that she could see herself belonging just at the point where it seemed her life was to come to a rather violent end. 

For a heartbeat she thought she had done wrong by using him as comfort. But then his hand came to her hair and her she supposed that she must have fallen asleep because when sunlight crested mountain and she woke up it was to find herself tucked under blanket, a piece of bread tucked in with her and the memory of someone who cared tucking her into the warmth. 

Diona had been sat near fire when Agron had come running up path. The night was dark and the stars were out in the sky but a fierce wind was ensuring they all huddled up in their blankets. The children had become silent shadows again, all the light and the joy that they had found in rebellion gone with the passing of each day turning into night. She found that she hated Glaber with a passion for that action alone.

She did not voice aloud her worries of her children to Duro whose mouth was so tight these days she wondered if smile would ever grace face again. The reality of what they were involved in had come crashing down upon them. They were not young lovers completely free with the world and prepared to die for a cause that would one day come to fruition, they were parents who had two small children who despite Freyja’s promises (feeble against the wind) could not sustain much longer in a fight. 

And that was before she realised that half of the German prisoners were missing. It did not take the harsh words of the Gladiators around her to understand what they were doing and just what was at stake. She turned back to her fire next to her children as Duro followed his brother down path. She did not like to watch him go. She did not want to think about what her life would be like if he did not come back. She did not want to think about anything. 

When Mira died in Spartacus’s eyes sharing a last look at the man she had dedicated her life to Diona felt a sweeping sense of shame almost. She had not know Mira at all during her time in the House of Batiatus. She had wondered once weather or not Mira had been Diona’s replacement. Slaves were such a commodity that when one was sold or killed or simply died then they were easily replaceable. She had never asked Mira if that had been the case—in all honesty she had never wanted to know but she could see the anguish on Naevia’s face and knew that her friend, her oldest and bested friend took the loss of this woman as hard as she had taken the loss of Melitta. 

She had thought over this all morning as the sky turned lighter and they watched out of the corner of their eyes even as they felt like they were intruding on something painful and indecent, Spartacus wrap her up tenderly in his cloak before taking her body off to side. If there were any of them left at the end of this battle then they would have the responsibility of burning the rest of the bodies. Diona could only hope that the children were not the ones doing that and then immediately hated herself more because was that not wishing her children dead? 

But did she want them alone? Did she want them to go from this life together as she had once known they would because of the conditions in the mines? Did she want to deprive her children a chance at a life now that they had one? And if though unlikely, they did survive this then what kind of life would it be for them in a rebellion? 

_ A free one.  _

That was what her mind told her in the morning when she woke up and saw another day. Sometimes she simply laid there shivering under the blanket. If Duro noticed he did not pass comment, that alone worried her somewhat for if Duro did not comment on what the ending was for them then she knew what thoughts were running through his head. She could feel it in every kiss and every touch and how he would mould their bodies together as if he was afraid of being apart for even a heartbeat. 

She was still contemplating this when word carried that someone was coming up mountain path. She forced self to feet her hand on the hilt of the sword she had hoped she never had to carry, Freyja looped one arrow gracefully into her bow even as Duro reached to touch shoulder in gentle reminder to wait until signal was given. Diona moved so that Cecelija was behind her. 

She saw the figure of the man move closer. She did not need the shaft of light so shine upon face she already knew who it would be. There was a pause where she stood there and then slowly her gaze moved to Naevia who had gone so still it was like she had become made of stone. Diona felt her hand move blindly behind her for Duro. He took her own trembling hand in his own his expression she knew just roaming her face to see what had brought such aversion reaction out of her. Diona found she could not even look at him. 

She was still transfixed by sight before her. 

Asher. 

Duro had no idea of what was going on but he knew man that was coming up path must be someone of note if reaction of all of those around him was anything to come by. Diona’s hand enclosed in his own from where she had reached out to take it was trembling. Agron next to him was smiling in a way that was almost feral. Spartacus was looking to Crixus who had much the same expression as Agron. Naevia had gone so still it was like she had been frozen. 

He shifted a little closer to Agron as man’s gaze swept over them. Duro watched as it rested on Diona and the man’s eyebrows raised a fraction. There was something in his expression, something dark and unnameable that had Duro shifting so he was closer to her effectively blocking Freyja who for once kept quiet. 

_ “Who is this?”  _ he asked in his own language out of the corner of mouth. He was aware that Saxa, Lugo, Nemetes and any other who spoke their tongue listening in. Agron shot the man a look of pure hatred and spoke fluently. 

_ “His name is Asher. He was a most unpleasant shit that resided in the Ludus. He would have been known to Diona I imagine. He was never a Gladiator though he was always converting their positions upon sands, myself included. He decided to help Dominus by telling tales, he is responsible for many a death of men I called brother, he is also responsible for telling our Domina about Naevia and Crixus which resulted in her being put to cart. After he had raped her of course. As to what he was is to Diona I cannot say”  _

Duro shot another look to Diona who was still watching the man with wide eyes. Her expression was flitting between him and Naevia. Duro knew she was not listening to the words being said, he was hardly listening either. It did not matter, he got the gist of the words being spoken. Surrender or die. Surrender as slaves or die free men. For Duro it was a simple choice. He had no intention of going back to the mines alive. 

He caught Agron’s expression and saw the same feral determination in his eyes mirrored in brother. He felt Diona’s nails dig into his arm slightly. She shook her head minutely and Duro knew she was saying that she too was choosing freedom even if it meant death. His hand found the small of her back again and he tried to put as much comfort in that touch as he could. The man was speaking again and Duro forced himself to think about something other than impending death. Crixus wanted the man’s head upon stick, Spartacus looked surprisingly amused by this image and Diona had gone so still Duro was not sure she was even breathing. 

Then. 

“No” 

It was Naevia. Her face was set and there was something glittering in her eyes that Duro did not like. He could not blame Crixus for his concern. Naevia however was shaking. When she spoke her voice was filled with a hared and a pain that Duro had never known and yet understood. When she spoke her eyes flittered to Diona who nodded her jaw set. Something passed between them unspoken and Duro felt his stomach plunge in warning. Agron stepped up next to him. 

_ “What”  _ he hissed under breath. Duro shook his head. Naevia and Diona were now smiling at each other in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Spartacus too was eyeing them both wearily. He seemed to know what was coming. 

“I will take life myself” 

That was Naevia. Duro felt his eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead. That was…unexpected. 

The man himself laughed loud and grating. 

“And when you fall?”

“I will take over” 

That was Diona. Duro reared back to look at her like snake. Agron found his arm. 

“I will let you kill him Naevia but I beg of you don’t let him die too quickly. Poisonous little snake oozing as if human.” 

Naevia laughed it was harsh and high pitched and inspired fear. Duro shot a look at Crixus who looked terrified. 

And then the fight began. 

Naevia was a good fighter when and if she kept emotions out of the moves she was making. She was fighting a man who had all the training of a gladiator and she was also fighting man who had seen her condemned to path of pain and misery and hurt. Duro could not see a good outcome to this because it was clear she was losing.

And then Diona…

He swallowed harshly. Agron’s fingers dug into his shoulder. 

Twice Asher made towards Diona with his sword. Once he got close and before Duro could react Diona had kicked him, her long leg (her fantastically long leg) extending outwards so that Asher fell back upon arse and Naevia went with her sword again. She took her hand from Duro and he looked at her concern etched in his face. She seemed to be almost trembling with some unnameable emotion. He had trained her as best he could but he had always prepared her for group combat, the rebels facing the army. He had never really given thought to preparing Diona much for a one on one contest. 

Looking back that might have been an exceptionally stupid thing to do. 

And then Naevia was on her knees. Duro closed his eyes in despair both at the loss that he knew as coming and the fact that Diona would enter field of battle and he would have to stand by and watch her suffer same fate. Agron’s other’s hand now found his other arm and was gripping on tight offering all semblance of comfort he could. 

Naevia whimpered. Freyja next to him turned her face white and tears in her eyes. She looked so impossibly young, so impossibly like the child he had tried to protect in the mines that he could not speak. 

“Should I fire off shot father?” she whispered. 

“No” Agron said into silence speaking for him when Duro could not. “No, Freyja, this is Naevia’s battle to face and hers to face alone. We dishonour her if we enter now” 

Freyja frowned as if she did not understand what Agron was saying. Duro could empathise. 

Asher spoke again his eyes flickering between the one woman he would soon kill and the woman who would take her place once battle commenced. Duro dared to stare at the woman besides him whose eyes were on Naevia. Diona seemed calmer than most of the men surrounding her. instead she was having some wordless communication with Naevia. 

“Nor will it erase my cock inside of hers. Or all the ones that followed. Neither will Diona taking place and attempting to take my life make her forget what it was like to be speared by two men for sport” 

There was a hiss from someone behind him but the man did not seem to understand that Duro was inches away from ending life himself. Cecelija was watching and Asher’s eyes alighted on her with a wild glee that had Duro’s blood boiling. 

“I am going to hazard guess Diona that the mutt hiding behind you is product of Roman’s learning how loose your cunt is.” 

Duro snapped. 

Agron launched himself at his brother before he could take a step. Lugo was there as well pulling him backwards. Duro had felt fury in his lifetime that he had never felt before. Saxa had moved to Diona’s side her hand curling around Cecelija’s head pressing the girl to leg as if it could protect her from violent words. 

Diona did not move. Her eyes were on Naevia. 

And then Naevia moved. 

Cock first, half a head later. 

Before she moved to take final blow however a whisper of the words came back to them. Diona said nothing but her eyes were still on Naevia. 

“No it will not. But for both of us it is a fucking start” 

Diona let out a breath, and then his head was from his body and the man who had caused so much pain to the woman who had killed him and who had ridiculed two survivors of rape was dead.

There was a pause where everyone seemed to collectively hold their breath. And then Naevia dropped her sword with a clatter turned and fell into Diona’s arms and the two women were crying and hugging each other. 

There was a very delicate pause where they all wondered what to do. Crying was not something Diona did easily. Naevia was just the same though they both had cause. Spartacus looked extremely uneasy as did Gannicus who immediately excused himself. Duro supposed neither one of them were used to crying women. Agron looked terrified though Duro chalked that down to Agron never having a relationship with a woman beyond friendship. He took charge of the girls leaving Duro, Crixus and Oenomaus who simply looked weary at the sight of the two women crying over the body of the man who had seen them at their worst and had on more than one occasion contributed to it. 

“Come brother” Agron said wisely though weather it was to him or Crixus, Duro could not tell. “Let us leave the women for a time” 

It did not stop Crixus from going to Naevia’s side ten minutes later. 

“I do not think much of this plan” Diona said startling him. Duro had been looking over cliff’s edge privately agreeing with her. It did seem a long way down and Agron was the one to climb it. Duro was to hold rope. He did not know what was a more foolhardy plan. 

“You have spoken to the girls?” he asked. Diona nodded. 

“I have told Freyja that she has to stay up here for one hour from signal to when we leave. If she sees fighting she is to go back to clifftop immediately, Cecelija is waiting at cliff edge.”

Duro nodded. It was not a good plan but it was a plan nonetheless. 

Neither one of them could voice the fact that they were leaving two children defenceless on a mountain. That they might not come back to them. 

Diona crossed the space between them and Duro opened his arms. 

“Lovely kick” he said into silence. “Though I can think of better things to do with your legs” 

Diona smacked his chest and though she did not speak for a while when she did her voice was filled with a question that Duro hated beyond measure that she had to ask. 

“You do not care then…what Asher said? You do not mind that I am…that Cecelija…” 

“Never” 

Diona nodded. 

“I have considered you her father for months, indeed you are the only man that I have ever wanted child with though I fear I cannot” 

Duro took that to heart. Long ago he had given up idea of having a child of his blood. He had two daughters after all regardless of blood and a woman by his side that he adored. Men had far little. 

“I consider myself blessed in this life to have what I have” he said softly. 

Diona’s dark eyes brimmed with tears. 

“I promise you that when we become an army I will ensure that you never have to pick up sword again”

Diona shook her head. 

“Duro I choose to walk by your side in this life and if I am blessed enough the one that comes after. I choose you. Standing besides the man that I love, the first man that I love, indeed the only man that I will ever love. Once that would have been a dream” 

Duro kissed her. He kept kissing her until he was told to take place. 

He caught Agron’s eye. His brother grinned at him. Duro grinned back at him. They had been born and raised as boys and men of blood and battle. This was almost fun for them. 

And then they went to war. 

The signal came and went and Freyja and Cecelija were left upon clifftop. Freyja began the count. She had been told to wait a whole hour so that was what she did. She counted each minute according to Roman law in her head as she rocked her little sister back and forth against the chilly wind. Cecelija clutched back. Diona and Duro. Mother and Father were both gone. 

It was the two of them. 

Freyja waited looking over the stars. 

“Freyja” 

“Yes Cecelija?” 

“That man…he was talking about me as a product of rape. I know what rape is, I do. But does that make me evil?” 

Freyja thought about it. 

“No it does not” she said thinking of her conversation with Lugo (and had that really been this morning?) “I think it makes your father evil but…Duro is our father now, or that’s the way I see it. And it’s so much simpler and there is much more love involved.” 

Cecelija nodded. 

Freyja went back to counting in her head once more. 

Once she reached the number agreed upon she stood up. Cecelija stood up too. Freyja cocked an arrow and took a breath and then went down the steep path to the mountain and to what could only be described as chaos. 

Diona took breath taking in stock. It had taken less than an hour of the allotted time she had given the girls. 

The Roman’s were dead.

They were scattered around the temple and the forest surrounding them, Oenomaus was amongst them as were fifty more or so, old and young alike. Diona turned only to find her mouth claimed by Duro with such a ferocity that she could not breath. They kissed for a long time until Agron cleared his throat and jerked chin towards the opening where a wall had once been. 

The girls were coming through. 

Cecelija ran to her mother and Diona pushed her on hip wincing at her not so inconsiderable weight. The baby she had given birth to in the mud had changed from the small child clutched and hidden at breast to the study child on her hip. And she was all Diona’s, Diona’s and Duro’s. 

Freyja dithered a little before shooting Lugo a look, the older man’s face creased a little and then he nodded. Freyja ran and wrapped both arms around Diona’s middle. 

“Mother” was all she said. She need say nothing more. 

Duro’s hand came down on her head stroking back the matted hair. 

“My girls” he muttered so only Diona could hear. She grinned trying to keep the bubble of happiness down in her. 

Spartacus was talking, he was talking about being an army, about making Rome tremble. It was an ending Diona could not see personally but as the lightening crackled around them she could not care less. She had Duro, her children, the promise of never having to raise sword again and good people who she considered friends surrounding her and the prospect at some point of a warm bed, a warm meal and more importantly a warm bath. Her ghosts, the girl she had once been had died on that mountain. The woman she was now remained. 

The girl who had longed for love had found it. The girl who had been raped and abused was gone with Asher’s head. She could forge own path, with man she loved by her side. If that took her to a death shortly then…then she had gleamed most from this life than most. 

She hugged Duro back, hugged her children and cheered with the rest of them. 

She was alive. Duro was alive. Freyja and Cecelija were alive. 

She was the girl who lived. The woman who lived. 

Her cheering was for two reasons. 

She found it still split the heavens. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are--I shall warn everyone who doesn't want to read it the next chapter will be mostly smut.
> 
> Feedback as always is adored.


	16. Lady's Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebels take a villa and recuperate for a few weeks.
> 
> Relationships get stronger, Freyja and Cecelija have the chance to be children for the first time in their lives and Duro and Diona come to a new reckoning as they finally learn to put their past behind them. 
> 
> Fair Warning copious amounts of smut in this chapter. RATED M. This Chapter is entirely in Diona’s Point of View.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, here is another chapter and as I said in the previous chapter the majority of this chapter will be smut. I feel like Diona like Naevia needed that moment where she was not afraid of the ghosts of her past and was able to move on and I tried to portray that experience and that love in the best way possible. 
> 
> You all know my disclaimers so therefore I wont bother, see the previous chapter--as always the characters are not really mine. 
> 
> Triggers for rape, violence, swearing and the usual Spartacus stuff, 
> 
> AGAIN THIS CHAPTER HAS COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF SMUT IN IT-IF THIS OFFENDS THEN SKIP THIS CHAPTER. 
> 
> I will hopefully update soon-to all of you reading this story, stay safe and stay well.

They created a funeral pyre as dawn broke. They had to burn the bodies of Mira and Oenoumaous and the rest of the rebels who had died fighting for them. Spartacus kept Mira covered in his cloak, each of the gladiators took moment to say goodbye to the man that had taught them the ways of the world, Agron and Duro mourned the fellow Germanic soldiers who had died for them and when the moment came they were all solid in mourning, even the girls watching the flames with wide eyes that were drooping shut. It had been a long night.

But it was still not over.

They had to move onwards, the temple in which they had resided in for so long was ruined beyond repair and soon other troops would come to see what had happened to the two generals who had lost their lives here. They packed up most of what they could carry and walked on as the sky turned light and the smoke from the burial fires continued to smoke.

Diona walked because at this point there was nothing else to do but walk. She was in a state of numbed collapse where she knew that if she did not take a step forwards she was collapse and crumble. She felt boneless. She had lost count of how many people she had killed during the night that seemed to stretch forever and her mind told herself sternly that it was a fact of life. She had to survive for her children but now she had survived she found that she never wanted to lift sword again. As she walked Diona looked to Duro who had Cecelija on his back—she had fallen fast asleep as morning had turned into noon and thought that if Spartacus held true to his promise she might never have to hold sword again. Of course that would mean that she would have to sit and wait to see if he came back from battle but she found that she could live with that anxiety. She found she could stand by that ideal. She did not know what that made her but she knew that it did not make her a coward as some might say. She was not a woman who could stand and fight, she was too much of a liability even if she was of an age and of a certain skill.

There was no shame in admitting that.

Freyja stumbled twice. She had kept up wonderfully but soon she too would succumb to slumber. Gannicus was next to her and Saxa though they seemed to be enamoured with each other if the looks passed between them were of any consequence. However with each stumble she took Diona noticed with amusement that Gannicus’s eyes would shift to Freyja’s with concern his hand once coming out to rest upon shoulder. She thought briefly that he would make good father but shook her head smile falling from lips. There was no point in making assumptions about thinks she knew nothing about, for all she knew Gannicus could have a different life before Ludus. They all could have.

Diona and Naevia did not. They had been born into slavery, sold into it and then freed from it from if they were both being honest with self out of sheer luck and a devotion from a Gaul neither of them expected.

They carried on in silence for most of the day and then just as night began to fall again and they had walked for miles Spartacus held up hand. Diona watched as the men—the main men that he trusted, Crixus, Gannicus, Agron, Duro, Donar and then then men he had grown to trust, Lugo and Nemetes moved closer. Saxa came and stood by Cecelija taking her when Duro tried to move sleeping girl into arms and onto a hip that was strong enough to take the sturdy weight of an eight year old child with very little complaint. There was something in her expression as she gazed down at the two girls that made Diona wonder as with Gannicus what Saxa’s life had been like before the cruel grasp of slavery had caught her like fish in a net but then she stopped and moved her expression away. She would not easily admit it, not to anyone, but the blonde German woman scared her to death in a way that actual death never achieved.

Duro came back looking gleeful half a moment later.

“Four or more villas, clustered within easy reach of each other, no children or so scouts can see, seems to be couples guarded by soldiers, other than that nothing. But they have land and cattle and shelter so we are going to take both villas. We have made such progress that Spartacus feels we can have a few weeks hidden amongst ourselves in shelter.”

He was beaming at excitement. Diona managed a smile but she was so tired she wanted nothing more to do than to lay her head against the nearest flat surface and to fall asleep.

“The children need to sleep” she muttered to him. “They are half dead on their feet Duro, we all need to sleep”

Duro nodded once but the look of boyish excitement did not fall away from face.

The villa was handsome and made with marble and statues of the Gods scattered around. The killing and the deposing of the bodies was quick. Diona put Cecelija to bed within the crisp sheets of the Domina’s bed and then helped Freyja into it next to her. Both girls were asleep.

She went to check the room where the linin usually was kept a habit born from both slavery and from necessity. The grime covering both of her daughters was as such she knew the sheets on the bed would have to be thrown away as soon as they woke to avoid the spreading of lice. She took in the piles of creamy silk sheets and then went in search of what she needed the most.

A bath.

There was one in the Domina’s quarters of the villa that she had Duro, Agron and Nasir had requested. She had no idea of where Naevia had rested her head tonight nor did she care. All she could see was the bath that had been drawn for the mistress of the house. It was thick and hot, steam rising from the water that had been drawn and flowers and oils of lavender and rose and sandalwood scattered around.

Diona stared at it for a second and then moving on a routine she had long since thought she had forgotten she went to the ivory cupboards and saw to her delight the pumice stone for the skin of her feet, the massage bar to smooth out the kinks in one’s shoulder, the thick sea salt scrub that removed blemishes from face, the scrub of harsh almonds that removed dead skin from body and the washcloths of smoothest satin. She found a serum of what she thought might be lavender mixed with a conditioning oil of argon for her hair and she thought she might cry when she found the lavender skin cream that she used to smear across breasts and flank of her mistress and was now used for her and her alone. She had no idea what clothes were available but she knew she was making use of this bath before she had to draw one for her children.

She stripped herself of her clothes and threw them in a pile at the edge of the bath. They were ragged and ripped and she cared not if she ever laid eyes upon them again. Actually she should burn them for the sake of the lice. She found the razor and the cream that she had once had to apply to her Domina and shaved methodically her legs and under her arms. She had no idea if Duro preferred a smooth shaved woman or not so she tided her cunt up and then when she was done sank into the bath’s hot and creamy water.

She nearly cried with joy.

It had been so long since she had, the luxury of a bath.

It took her a second to get used to the novelty of the hot water and then she dunked herself under water so her hair was wet.

She rose up water dripping off her hair and flanks and then—

“Fuck me”

“Duro!”

And there he stood in shadow of bath, he pulled curtain shut and moved to watch her with eyes dark with lust. Diona stared at him, it was still unnerving to see a man look at her with that amount of love in their eyes. She was used to the lust. The love was not something she had ever been privy too.

“The children are asleep. Keep voice down”

“I know, I passed them on way into this room. They are dead to the world curled up together, Spartacus has given us all leave for the foreseeable future until Gods come to piss upon us. We share this villa with Agron and Nasir who have occupied Dominus quarters. Spartacus, Crixus and Naevia are in a second, Gannicus is with the rest of German warriors in third and the rest are in forth including slaves we have rescued”

Diona took that as a gesture from Spartacus, she and Naevia were as limited to male contact as they could. She swallowed.

“Good” she said finally. “Now are you going to come into bath with me or not?”

Duro stripped himself of his clothes with ease sword cluttering to the side. Diona took him in, in all his nakedness, his full body standing there.

“You are but thing sculptured by the fucking gods” she said finally into the silence. Duro went very still.

“Do you think so?” he asked finally. “For I do not. The man I was before we met Diona…” he shook his head eyes closed as if to send away unpleasant memories. “Sometimes I think the mines have stripped it away from me”

Diona shook her head at palatable untruth.

“You are the man I fell in love with. The man who loved a woman despite all her bruises and scars and pain. A man who loved a child, two children that were not his own. You protected Freyja within the mines, you taught me how to fight and accepted that it was a path I did not want to travel down. You are a good man, you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are my husband”

There was a long pause where Diona thought she had gone to far.

Duro’s eyes found hers. They were overbright.

“In my custom the man does the asking” he said softly. Diona snorted.

“And in mine the woman knows who she wants to spend life with”

“Alright then. Diona, will you marry me? Will you do me the extreme honour of being your husband and the father of your child?”

“And will you Duro do me the honour of being your wife, the mother of your child?”

She could see the leap of pleasure in his face both when she referred to him being her wife and also Freyja as his child. And it was true. Freyja had been the child he had brought to the marriage. To their marriage. It was not done in the way of her Gods or of Duro’s but she felt like it was legally binding all the same. What did it matter? She knew Duro was it for her, there was no other man she would ever want. And he knew the same of her.

“I will” he said quietly.

They kissed pressing their bodies together in the bath.

“Do we consummate the marriage?” Diona asked her voice light, the corners of her mouth twitching with a smile.

“Oh good Gods yes” Duro muttered against her mouth and then he lifted her up in the bath so that her legs went around waist that was strong and hard, his hands clutched at her arse and then they were kissing with such a ferocity that she felt they would set the villa alight.

It was not a conventional marriage between her Gods and Duro as witnessed by a man of religion but Diona thought that they were not a conventional couple. They had found each other when they had both believed all hope was lost. What did it matter? Nobody could hurt either one of them again, nobody could rip them apart from the other, they were not at the mercy of some master. They belonged to nobody but each other.

It was a heady feeling.

They broke apart when they needed air and Duro paused his head coming to her collarbone and breathing hard. Diona waited for that flicker of fear that came when she was always close to a man but to her amazement she found that it was not there anymore. Somewhere, somehow she was not afraid anymore. She kissed Duro’s temple and slid off his hips moving for cloth so that she could clean the grime and the blood off his body.

It took time and she was gentle about it. There was something sensual she supposed in the way that she did it. She had learnt the art of bathing someone before she had learnt what her own name was. She knew how to wipe away the grime and then smear on the oil into the tight muscles of Duro’s shoulders so that she could massage away the knots. The tension in his shoulders took time but she knew that she was on correct path when she pressed into a knot of gnarled scar tissue and Duro hissed sitting down in the hot water and lolling his head back.

Once he was boneless in her arms and his hair was clean and the grime scrubbed away she moved to quickly do same to self but was stopped.

“Come here”

She allowed Duro to do the same to her, washing away the grime and the pain and the blood and all that had gone before her. It was cathartic in a way that she had not experienced before, to have someone take time to bath her, to smooth oil over her skin and then rub the grime out of her hair. Once she was clean she stepped out of bath leaving it to drain and refill for the girls to use when they woke from slumber.

She reached for the body cream and smeared a good amount on her hands warming it up and running over her and Duro in equal measure. The scent of the lavender in the air soothed her somewhat, soothed her nerves. It was confusing in a way, she had been with him for many moons now and yet she felt like blushing virgin on wedding night.

Finally once task had been completed they walked steadily still linked together, still naked into a smaller room. It was the room designed for the Domina’s bed slave who got small pallet upon floor to rest head, always at beck and call to her mistress in the other room. Melitta had, had room such as this, and then Naevia. Diona could remember the jealousy that came when lying upon cold ground wishing you had bed and blanket.

Duro’s hands skimmed her shoulders and she shivered suddenly unbearably hot in the candlelight.

“Tell me not too. And I will stop” he vowed into her hair.

Diona paused, she knew if she said the word he was expecting he would stop immediately pull them to the bed and curl up to sleep. He would try and dim arousal poking her in the side of her leg and allow her time. But she found she did not want time. The woman she had once been was gone, the grime and the muck and the blood scrapped off her with the almond scrub and the bone that was used to clean off had gone and she wanted to live, to love, to be loved. She wanted to live the life that she had thought not to.

“No” she said finally. “I want you too”

She turned to kiss him and then when they pulled back she said the words she had never dared to say in that temple.

“Make love to me Duro, show me how a good man loves his woman. Show me how to live”

There was a pause and then Diona said the words that made an giggle come to lips as if she was young girl so eagerly made to blush.

“Make love to your wife”

Duro gave a low growl and then Diona’s back was against the sheets of the bed and her legs were around his waist. Duro kissed her until her lips felt numb and she thought she might pass out from lack of air and then his hand moved from her own hair down her neck to her breasts, to her stomach and then back up again stroking all over. He bent his head and took nipple into mouth and Diona arched backwards her back arcing in a curve as her hands found his still wet hair and pulled a little. Duro paused smiling against the valley of her breasts and then he took the other breast into his mouth lapping at it like cat at milk. He moved downwards pressing kisses to her stomach, to her hipbones, to the drying curls beneath and then below where he waited for a moment and then once she had stopped quivering he flicked his tongue out and licked again, long sweeps with his tongue curling in some quick twist around the little bundle of nerves that had her moaning like some whore. She bit her lip worried for moment about waking girls but then realised that even with the noise of rebellion around them they slept through the dead. She let out her lip grinning. She could now make all the noise she wanted.

Duro continued his ministrations and then only when Diona was sure she was going to climax again by his ministrations he pulled his head up and watched her.

He did not have to ask question on lips. Diona knew and her heart swelled even more with love for him. Even now he was still asking if she was sure. She reached for his shoulders pulling him up so that their faces were in each other’s eyeline. For a moment Diona stared at him trying to memorise each line of his face, each shift and then she nodded.

Duro shifted and then he was inside of her.

The sharp adjustment stole breath away from body. When she had been in mines she had focused on trying to stay alive, of snatching a moment or two where her mind would forget where she was and what events were taking place around her. It had been both clinical and calculating and there was very little pleasure in it for her. This was still strange concept for mind to grasp.

Duro was staring at her still. Diona pulled mind away from unpleasant memories and focused on his face. The one time she could remember like this she had almost been crushed by weight and she had trembled in fear and not in pleasure. She was with Duro know not nameless faceless men. Duro, who loved her despite all imperfections. Who had breathed life back into broken shell.

“I love you” she said trying to convey just how much she meant that. Duro’s smile could have split the fucking heavens.

“I love you.” he replied. “I adore you, right now you are beyond magnificent…and the Gods have given such a magnificent gift to me. It is beyond anything I could have expected.” He shifted a little and Diona felt something inside of her that caught breath.

And then he moved with speed.

He was like weapon in himself she noted dimly as pleasure rose. Duro’s whole body seemed to flex, his muscles contracting. Diona felt pleasure such as she had never felt before as he seemed to hit something inside of her time and time again. She gripped his shoulders and allowed herself to be washed away with pleasure like waves beating against shore.

She climaxed gasping his name and feeling tears come to her eyes.

“And that” Duro said into her hair once breath had been regained. “Is how a man of worth pleasures his wife”

Diona hugged him closer. She could not find the words to describe what she had regained tonight. She suspected Duro understood.

They made love three more times that night until dawn was cresting the window above bed and she was so tired she could barely move eyes. Duro slid from and her and pulled blanket around them for few hours of sleep and as sleep claimed her in that night that seemed to stretch forever, where everything seemed golden and alive Diona knew she was a woman blessed indeed.

The next morning was broken by the task of getting girls into bath.

It was not as easy as it sounded to the ear.

“It seems like waste” Freyja said doubtfully eyeing the steaming pool with suspicious eyes.

“It is not waste” Diona said sternly. “And you will enjoy experience once you are in water”

Freyja looked highly unconvinced at that thought but she got in the water stripping of the filthy rags and climbing in.

After a pause her jaw shifted. Diona saw her discreetly nod to Cecelija who immediately vested herself of clothes and got into bath. They lasted all of five heartbeats before they were splashing and dunking each other in the water creating an unholy mess. Diona had half a mind to at least try and reprimand them but the giggles stopped her.

They had never really had a chance to be children before.

She did not have it in her to spoil opportune fun.

She did give them a through scrubbing and a good delousing though that took time and effort unlike anything she had ever had to do before. She ran the ivory comb through a tincture of nutmeg, jasmine and rose oil and some powder to kill lice and ran a comb through the tangled strands of hair that was came to Freyja’s waist and the shorter shoulder length hair that was Cecelija’s. She ran oil over them smoothing the bumps and bruises that appeared as if Gods themselves had conjured them out of thin air. She took the stone and ran it over feet until skin was soft and then when they were towelled she smoothed the lavender cream over skin until they were children of the real world and not the smoke and substance children they had been in that temple.

Finally she rummaged around in the trunk for clothes. There had been no children in this house that Duro had told her about but she noticed that there were two dresses one in red and one a darkened pink colour that were tied with beads and ribbons that were not made for a domina’s wear. She did not think much on that as she passed the to the children. Least she thought on that the better.

The children immediately went in search of food which allowed Diona time to follow. She found her own dress in a lilac silk that after ripping in a few places for ease of wear managed to fit and cover her. The feel of silk running through her hands after such a time in rough cloth nearly made tears come to eye. She looked at herself in the looking glass in the room. She had forgotten how she had appeared without mud staining her skin, grime and blood coating what had once been smooth and pale and unblemished. Her skin had caught the sun’s gaze and had become reddened in some area’s and tanned in others. Her hair now curling like it used to do was longer than it had been as slave and was lighter in the sun, it was still black as a raven’s wing but Diona could see lighter streaks through it. Her face was still thin but there was something in that mirror that reminded her of girl gone by.

Girl who had been desperate to fall in love, girl who had been romantic and foolish, and woman who had learnt the hard lesson of youth.

She sighed turning to the side so that she could see her body in the looking glass again. Starvation and hunger and hard work had taken away most of the curves that she had been graced with both naturally and throughout her pregnancy, her hips had shrunk in size, her breasts fuller than before though her stomach bore silvery marks of where skin had stretched to carry Cecelija. She bore the marks of slavery but to her amusement and then to her deepest satisfaction she also bore some different marks. Like the red mark upon neck that Duro had left, the mark on her inner thigh where he had bitten down and suckled, the ache of the fingertips on her hipbones and the ache in between her legs that did not hurt in the way it had done previously but in a delicious way she had never experienced before.

She slid the silk around her body smiling at self in mirror. It covered her breasts and she tied it around her neck so that it bunched around her hip and fell over her left leg with a grace. Her right leg was a bit more exposed but not in a way to make her uncomfortable.

The silk was sumptuous over her skin. She felt reborn.

Diona went to follow her children.

She left the girl in the looking glass behind.

Duro had told Agron about marriage in private clearly because he had slid up to Diona and muttered something about his pleasure about calling her sister. It was clear that one did not keep secrets within rebellion because Naevia ten heartbeats later was hugging her and wishing her well. Spartacus offered good fortune and perhaps the best gift of all was the promise from Nasir that the girls could spend night sharing quarters with Agron and himself so that they could have their half of villa to self.

Diona could have kissed him.

She supped sat next to her husband eating the chicken and drinking the wine and making sure her children were in safe hands. It was remarkable what she was noticing now they were clean and in change of dress and shoes. Freyja’s hair was not dark but was in fact a brown the colour of the chocolate she had gained hands upon. Her face was freckled and her eyelashes thick and dark. Cecelija had her dark hair and her features but she also had a softness about her that did not come from the mines. They were individual but Diona wondered if any new slave amongst them would look at them and see that they had not been sisters since birth.

Eventually Spartacus removed self to villa. He spoke of a month or so putting plans into action, seeing Rome’s next move against them in comfortable surroundings and Diona thought she agreed. It would do them all some good to sleep deeply, drink merrily and enjoy the life they had fought so hard to gain.

It also gave her time for much needed plan.

She kissed both her daughters goodnight when time came and stars were twinkling above the villa roof. Both were sleepy again and content to curl up in the master’s body slaves bedroom which gave them a bit more room and some privacy for the night. Duro was still making merriment with his brother and so Diona went back to her own quarters and waited patiently for him to come to bed.

Also she found she needed time to talk herself into intended actions for the last time she had done this it had been in action born of hatred for her and her sex and her kind. But…but she wanted to do this now…Duro had been so kind and so gentle with her, showing her what it was to take step forwards from deepest shadow into brightest sun that she felt like she was ready. Truth be told she’d had a hard time keeping her hands away from his body the previous night. Her palms were tingling just thinking about exploring the smooth hard planes of her husband’s body.

She was ready to take things another step further.

She rummaged throughout the chest of draws throwing silks aside with impatient air looking for what she knew to be there. If the mistress of this house was anything like Lucretia then she would have one.

Her hands found lace and she pulled out the fabric appreciating fine quality when it was put in front of her.

This would do.

When Duro did indeed come back to room Diona had lit candles again, had poured wine and had drank enough to where nerves were simmering away in small box in deep recess of mind. She was wearing the white fabric that had been dress Roman woman would wear to bed, it was see through showing her breasts, flank and cunt to anyone who walked through door. She knew when Duro stopped dead upon entering that she had arrested his sight and it sent a thrill of pleasure down spine that had her squirming with delight like kitten in chase of wool.

“Fuck me” he said taking her in with that gaze that always made her pause as she stood and took in appreciation of her gaze. Diona felt blush come to cheeks again. She had never really been looked at that before. There was a pause again and then with a bravery that still felt novel to her she moved past Duro tugged the curtain shut.

“Girls?”

“Sleeping in Agron’s quarters. Freyja went down like candle guttering and Cecelija has raided the master’s library so that she could read all the scrolls and draw on all parchment, I imagine we are going to need bath again tomorrow. We have week before we begin training again”

“A week is gift from the Gods” Diona said turning around.

“You are gift from the Gods”

Diona allowed small satisfied smile and then took another breath. She bit her bottom lip and then forced her heart to willingly calm down least it beat out of her chest. She turned and then dropped the white gauze she had draped around self.

Duro slid out of his armour and his subligaria both of which she noted were new and bright. She swallowed not with fear but with a pulse of desire. This was what she wanted, she desired this above all things.

“I want to do something” she said carefully. “And I need for you to let me”

Duro titled his head to the side but did not ask her to elaborate for which Diona was relieved. She was not sure she could explain. The last time she had preformed this act on anyone it had been with harsh hands pulling at hair and harsh thrusts until throat was raw and she was trembling with fear that had only gained harsh, loud laughs and on more than one occasion a slap to her face.

She took another breath, that was not going to happen here. This was Duro, this was the man she loved who loved her, who would never hurt her and she managed small smile. Gently to ease herself into act and if she was being honest with self to gain much needed courage she gently dragged her fingertips across muscled shoulders, moving around Duro’s back to the strong shoulder blades and the arse that had not one ounce of fat on and the strong legs. She moved her fingertips back up as she walked back around to front to run smoothly over the skin of his chest scarred and hard and unyielding and then downwards across the planes of his stomach biting back another smile as she saw the muscles jump and flinch.

“Minx” Duro said in response. Diona giggled and then she moved her hand towards intended purpose. His cock.

She had never really laid fingers on it before. She had if she was being honest with self never really looked at it before. Now she lowered her gaze towards it and she saw that it was larger than she had thought and right now it hard, growing harder as she ran her fingers up and down the length.

She gazed down for a second and then she dropped to her knees.

Duro gave an abortive hiss through his teeth watching her with dark eyes so dark they were almost black with want.

“Diona” he said shaking his head. “You do not need to do this. I promise you it does not matter to me”

Diona felt her heart swell even more with love for him a feet she thought was not possible. She could see the want in his eyes and the love and somehow it was that look that told her all knowledge that she needed to know.

She could do this.

She wanted to do this.

She flicked out her tongue and licked the tip.

Duro hissed hands flying to her hair and Diona suddenly pulled back. The hair pulling was not something she knew she would ever be comfortable with. It might be her one and only line in their lives together. Too many sour and unpleasant memories came to mind and Duro dropped his hands immediately and balled them into fists at his side. Diona did not wait for the words that she knew would come and promises that they did not need to do this. She needed to do this, she wanted to do this.

She took him into her mouth fully this time. Long ago her gag reflex had been forced away and she found that she could take him to the root and wait for a heartbeat to adjust to the weight and the taste and the feel of him in her mouth. And then she began moving her head.

Survival and a harsh experience had taught Diona what men liked when they were on the receiving end of this kind of pleasure and she knew what to do. She sucked and tongued and teased until she was sure that her husband was on the edge. She looked up her eyelashes fluttering as she held him in her mouth watching. What she saw nearly made her climax herself.

Duro was watching her, his eyes enlarged in his face. The green in his eyes had become almost black with desire and he was trembling a little. She had never had that power before and it made her want to giggle again, she did sending a resulting vibration to Duro who groaned. His hands were clenched into fists and his knuckles were white in his effort not to touch unless she invited it.

Diona flicked her tongue once around the head and then Duro with a small groan was coming down her throat. She swallowed him with ease and pulled back with satisfaction looking at him her gut filled with pride.

For a moment she thought he might collapse, instead he opened one eye and stared at her.

“You minx” he said his voice horse. “Your really will be the death of me. But fuck the Gods, it will be a glorious, amazing, ending.

Diona giggled sitting down on the bed, Duro followed but before they could sleep he muttered something about ‘Let me return favour” and before she could stop he had flipped her onto back and had bent his own head and began to lick like the cat lapping at milk that he always reminded her of, between her legs like it was last meal. She gripped at his shoulders until she was sure she was leaving bruising finger marks but she could not stop until he had gotten her to cliff edge twice, once he was inside of her he brought her and himself to climax once more and Diona thought she might not have voice left to describe her joy. She could only pray she had remained in a lower tone for modesty’s sake. Agron was only one corridor away and she was not sure she could look him in eye if she had woken him from slumber with her groans.

Once they had finished and Diona could feel her eyes drifting, she attempted to hang onto the moment as Duro slid out of her and moved off her so she could breath. She turned on side and he pulled her close running his fingers as soft as drifting snow up and down her back.

“Was that…did you…I wish to ask, was that satisfactory?” Diona asked. Duro looked down at her before face creased in amusement and he snorted out his laughter.

“Fuck the Gods woman, was my not coming down your throat enough to tell you? I have never been teased like that before in life. Everytime I came close to ending delicious torment you found a new way to reduce me to nothing, I thought legs would give out in pleasure. There are not words to describe what you do to me.”

Diona smiled satisfied with self and snuggled back underneath the silk and the furs they had commanded. She felt very tired but her bones and her blood sang with exhaustion in a good way and not in the way that came with hunger, fear or sleep deprivation.

Duro moved so that he was in sitting position his fur pooled in lap and then stood up. Diona was more than content to curl up within furs and let slumber come and she was on the edge of letting the dream world claim her when she felt him sit back down and pull at her hip so that she was flush against his body sitting up awake despite desire to sleep.

“I have something for you”

Diona waited. Duro took her right hand and opened the palm. He dropped a kiss onto the soft skin and Diona was aware of the stubble that was growing on face brushing against soft skin of her hand and then just as she closed her eyes and revelled in sensation she felt something cold drop into hand. Opening eyes she saw a ring.

It was simple gold metal and she suspected due to quality and smoothness it had once belonged to the Roman woman’s whose bed they were now occupying. It had three tiny gems set in so small that even though they glittered in candlelight Diona knew they would not be seen in sunlight.

“I did not think you would want your wedding ring to show stones that came from mines” Duro muttered. “I did not have time nor to I have the knowledge or experience to make you one either, but seeing as we are hanging every other tradition I thought that this would do. But…” he added hurriedly, staring intently at face—“If this is not to your liking then I can find you another one. Gods knows the woman had more rings than I have had hot baths and—”

But Diona had cut him off. Surging forwards she wrapped both her legs around his waist and sat upon lap and moulded their mouths together in a kiss so hard and arousing she thought she might bruise lips. Duro thrust his tongue into her mouth and lowered her onto back only ripping lips away when it became necessary to draw breath.

“I love it” she said softly. Duro grinned at her that shit-eating confident grin he had developed of late pulling her back onto his lap. Diona held out her hand and he slipped the ring onto her marriage finger before gently kissing it again.

“Now” he said into silence. “We are husband and wife. You are mine Diona and I am yours until death claims us, together in this life and the one that follows. And everyone will know you are claimed for and that you are loved, and I make solemn vow that no man will ever lay hands upon you again”

Diona tried to speak but found that words failed her. Duro brushed hair back out of her eyes and settled them down upon bed wrapping them up warmly. Diona kissed him once more and tried to put a lot of what she was feeling at this moment that seemed to continue forever into words. She thought perhaps Duro knew because his smile was very gentle and for perhaps the first time in her life, warm, sated, protected, Diona the slave girl, the broken girl whose dreams had been shattered at her feet, now a free woman, a mother, a warrior and now a wife to a good man, fell to deep slumber safe in the knowledge that she was loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you are, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the next one will again be between Vengeance and War of the Damned and I will try and update as soon as I can. If I don't get chance to post before then I wish you all a Happy Easter. 
> 
> Feedback is of course always adored and appreciated.


	17. Tender Loving Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the rebels adjust to freedom, Spartacus moves forwards with his plans which include asking Freyja to return to the place that still haunts her. 
> 
> Agron gets a full picture of what his brother has suffered and Freyja meets a boy who does not seem to be afraid of her or her status as the youngest rebel fighter in Spartacus’s Army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, we are officially at the beginning of War of the Damned and we are also ten chapters away from finishing this story! 
> 
> You all know my usual disclaimers-very little with this story is my own and the spelling, grammar and type of language is not my strongest writing style either. But enough of that onwards with this chapter.

If this was what true freedom was like then Cecelija decided she never wanted to enjoy life any other way. This…whatever this was, was bliss from the Gods. She wanted to enjoy way of life for many moons to come.

When they woke they woke to the sun streaming though the roof reflecting shimmering pattens on the bath whose water went from hot to cold, there was oil and soft lavender creams and stones to take away the dirt and harsh skin from their feet. There were long, languid mornings in bed, food and more importantly for Cecelija—scrolls, parchment, granite pencils and ink. Spartacus had given her a soft smile when she had gone to the Dominus chambers and asked for some supplies she was sure he had needed and had told her with a hand on the back of her head to take what she desired.

“And what will you do with them?” he asked as she gathered up all she could carry.

“Draw” she said truthfully. “So some day they will be able to look back upon events and remember us”

She did not think that was too weighty and Spartacus gave out a barking laugh and told her to come back when she ran out.

After a week everyone was back at training apart from her and mother who had flatly refused to ever wield sword again claiming that it was not nor would it ever be to her liking. Neither Spartacus nor her father commented on it and while Freyja shot with her bow and some of the older slave children began to learn how to fight the younger slaves and the ones who couldn’t fight began to learn how to read and write in the cool atrium where the breeze wafted in through the open door.

Midday meal was always something cold and then more training or time alone before dinner. The Generals as they were now called of the rebellion met before dinner, that was Spartacus, Crixus, Uncle Agron and Gannicus who sometimes looked as if he still wished very much as if he did not want to be there. Sometimes Father would join them and Aunt Naevia. Sometimes Lugo who seemed to have become de facto leader of the German warriors whenever Uncle Agron was not around.

There were planning something Cecelija knew that and that was how she knew time in this villa of paradise was slowing coming to an end. All good things must, even at eight slowing turning into nine with each week she knew that, she had learnt that lesson the hard way.

Her life-day, the day of her birth fell upon a day that was bathed in sunlight. She had never received gifts for her life-day before so she was rather pleased and oddly full of feelings she could not describe to see that she had received parchment and charcoal sticks from Spartacus, a new dress from Uncle Agron and Nasir, a slab of chocolate from Freyja and the promises of midnight feastings and a rather small knife from Saxa to go in the sandals given by Gannicus. Even Crixus and Aunt Naevia had given her a small gold bracelet set with a blue stone that was probably something from the woman who had once ruled this house.

Her mother and father had given her a cloak with fur around the edge for winter and all the people who cared about her had wished her well. This was unlike any other celebration she had ever experienced before and it was daunting but yet wonderful. She fell asleep that night as she had done like all the other nights that they had rested here deep in the knowledge that she safe and loved and warm.

If this was freedom, Cecelija wanted nothing else but this for the rest of her life.

Freyja had been walking from courtyard to room when she heard raised voices. It was not her intention to listen in but she had been following the patterns of light on the marble floor and had stopped to bath feet in cool water of the atrium, she had leaned back on her back her feet in the water one arm under her head and might have fallen asleep with the suns warm rays upon face had she not heard her own name in the conversation taking place.

She sat up and listened, it appeared to be a conversation of harsh words between Crixus, Spartacus her Uncle and her father. She stood up her bare feet splashing and reached for her discarded bow and giver full of arrows. She did not want to be caught eavesdropping.

However fate was not on her side when it came to events such as this. As she slid her bow upon her back the curtain opened and out came her father followed closely by his brother both of whom looked furious, Crixus followed, Spartacus brought up the rear. Freyja stopped dead looking between them all and taking in the rather angry expressions engraved on each man’s face. Gannicus was also with them but he did not look angry more amused, he flashed Freyja a wink the one she knew he used on women he wanted to charm and she grinned back at him. Gannicus was always so much easier to deal with than anyone else within rebellion.

“Fuck, child shows up just when we need her most” Crixus said with a grin that for some reason Naevia seemed to find charming. He had been growing a beard and his hair and while Freyja had seen enough Gaul’s in her old household and with that style to know he was going back to the style of his forefathers.

“Child” her father snarled. “Is none of your concern. Spartacus you will not use Freyja to your own ends”

“Duro, It is not as I wish it but it is what it is” he said and Freyja watched as her father’s jaw clenched. “But Freyja is of an age where she can help and I would ask her opinion”

There was something about the way that Spartacus would speak that made Freyja feel better about herself than she usually did. He had that commanding tone that made one pull themselves higher and answer a call that might not perhaps be what they wanted. Freyja stared at him, she would take her orders from him.

“I will be glad to help Spartacus” she said into the silence. Spartacus paused and then when he spoke he was looking at her father and her father was furious in expression.

“This is not something that should be asked—”

“No” that was Spartacus, cutting across whatever was to be said. “Duro, I appreciate position but for this I would ask opinion of child I trust”

Freyja grinned. Spartacus always knew what it was that got people to do what he wanted. He had a quality that people would follow.

“Freya” he said into the silence “I would ask of you a task that I know you would not like, and…and yet I ask it of you anyway, I would ask that you go back to the mines and let in my rebels through entrance you escaped from”

The very moment the word mines came from his lips Freyja felt a slither of fear slid down her spine like ice and she had to clamp down on her hiss that wanted to come out of mouth like fucking scalded cat. She resisted the urge to take step back in fear and her hands went behind her back and clasped the other one in order to keep fear at bay.

“Why?” she asked finally. She was not sure why that was the only question that she wanted to ask but she wanted to know reasoning behind her doing something so terrifying.

“Because I wish to liberate slaves there, it will be a blow to the Romans that they will not see coming and will not appreciate. Losing their mines and the slaves within them will cripple sources of income for the senate and others who will see us shackled while they live in luxury, plus it will give much needed boost to army”

It was Crixus who spoke his eyes alive with purpose. Freyja could not fault his reasoning though she desperately wanted to do nothing but. She understood, she understood within seconds why they had asked her to complete task but she could not pretend that it did not make her want to hide away. She had never planned to go back to the mines. If that would have been an option she would have preferred to take her punishment upon cross.

She shot Spartacus a look upon which he elaborated. “Also it could reunite many families, save many lives and is the right thing to do”

Freyja nodded.

“What would I have to do?”

Spartacus stared at her for a heartbeat longer, her father let out a long slow hiss. Uncle Agron placed hand upon his shoulder and said something in the tongue that they shared between them.

Spartacus took a breath, Freyja felt her spine straighten somewhat. This was what she had wanted, to be warrior and rebel and woman. She had wanted to be a grown woman standing upon her own two feet and not be dependant on others, like her mother, like Saxa, like Naevia.

When she thought of the mines however she thought that perhaps she wanted nothing more to do than to bury her head in her blankets and pretend that she was a child as small as her sister.

Diona had not taken to kindly towards the plan. Duro had not been fan of it either but he could see merits. The children had gone to bed, the last baths and the goods and the clothes and furs and jewels they had liberated had been packed tightly away as had the goods that the girls had taken as personal goods including ink and parchment, the jade elephant from lands far from here that Freyja had taken from Domina’s dressing table, the ivory mirror and comb which Diona had pounced upon and all of the bathing tools and creams and potions that went far above Duro’s head had been taken.

“I do not like this” Diona said finally. She had not responded with hit of violent temper which Duro might have found easier to handle. Instead his wife had begun her packing in silent as he had sat upon bed watching. She had taken to throwing his armour in their shared trunk with more aggression that Duro had seen in her before.

“I know, neither do I, but plan is solid and strong. It needed someone who knew mines. Amount of time that Freyja spent running around the place like child in maze is invaluable in a plan such as this. And she did not flinch away. I do not like her doing this Diona but she responded as warrior”

Diona hissed and threw a piece of fabric against the wall. Duro reached out and pulled her onto his lap feeing her hiss again at advance but out of anger rather than fear. His mouth found the spot under her ear that seemed to make her beg for more whenever he placed lips upon it.

“I would not have the girls in danger if there is an avoidance.” She said softly. Duro nodded the thought of Freyja back in place that held so many unpleasant memories for both of them rankled. He pressed his face down into Diona’s shoulder feeling her hair now soft after so many washes in that wonderful bath rub against his face. He breathed in the scent of her letting it ground him and his emotions.

“I agree” he said finally. “But we must trust Spartacus and Freyja. All she has to do is open the entrance we escaped from. She will have the means to do so, and then Agron and Donar will take care of guards patrolling mines and Freyja can signal rebellion from when she escapes. The people we will be rescuing will be in their thousands, it is a great boon for the rebellion and if Spartacus is to be held to his word, this will ensure that you never have to pick up sword again”

Diona sighed and Duro knew that despite her misgivings she was going to allow the necessary events to unfold.

“It would be a shame” Duro said into the silence. “If we did not take advantage of bath before we moved on”

Diona said nothing but Duro could feel her smile. She stood up her feet bare against the cool marble of the villa. Both children had fallen to slumber, and Agron would be occupied with Nasir for most of the night. They were alone.

She dropped her dress and held out her hand and Duro took it feeling her remove his cloth so that they were naked together. They had learnt many things about each other and their bodies since they had been together, Duro’s hand found her arse and then he lifted her onto his hip so that her legs went around waist. Diona’s hands found his hair.

They made it to the bath, then to the bed, the rest of it was a wash of pleasure, of the coming together of hands and minds and bodies. Duro did not spare what was coming the following morning much thought, how could he when he had Diona in her new favourite position atop him her head and dark hair thrown back, the moonlight from open roof spilling onto her breasts and flanks highlighting the water dripping down her skin still from their bath? She continued to ride him and Duro thrusted upwards feeling the muscles in his belly contract wave upon wave of pleasure hit him. Diona collapsed upon him and after sliding out of her Duro wrapped them up in the silk blankets feeling her nestle against him.

He could not imagine sleeping alone anymore. His whole world had become woman next to him.

He did not want to think of a life without her.

The plan so far had gone ahead without hitch. Donar was accompanying her to mines and the plan as Spartacus had described it to her and she had fallen asleep to in mind was that she had to get to the exit they had taken upon escape and open it. They entered the mines at the south entrance that had two guards easily disposed of. Therefore she did not have to wear chains or a collar something she was eternally relieved over. But she did have to enter place and enter it alone?

She had found one of the open hatches but It was small enough for her and her alone. Donar smiled at her with a grim look and then placed a hand on top of her head as if to wish her look. He also gave her a supply of water which she knew she would need. Freyja had looked at the dark hole that she had thought she would never have return to took a deep breath and then jumped.

She landed in a patch of mud. She was wearing older clothes than the ones she had locked away in mother’s chest of wood because as Saxa had pointed out silk lost them the opportunity of advantage. She closed her eyes as the shaft of light was covered again and then opened them looking around and forcing sight to take in where she was.

She had landed on right side of the mines for opportunity she needed. It was a short walk providing she ran into little interference from guard or from any other slave that wanted attention. She was still young enough not to warrant much interference but there was always the risk. Easier by far to keep her head down and her mouth shut like so many others trapped down here.

Navigation took longer than she would have liked. Perhaps it was because she was slower than she would have given thought to, perhaps it was the fear that was beating against her heart, perhaps it was because she had forgotten what it was like to live in the mud and with the rats as food and water that soaked your clothes the only kind you could drink, she had forgotten what it was for mud to become your pillow and family separated by death and melancholy that feasted on the mind.

And the mud! How Freyja had forgotten the mud!

She made to destination within the allotted time space though she noticed that much was different, the slaves that had once been tending this aera were gone, that alone sent waves of panic crashing through her even as she kneeled amongst iron gate and began to tackle the difficult process of unpicking the lock that kept the gate from the slimy mud slide that she could crawl up and unlock the bars from the square of earth that the rebels could crawl through.

“What are you doing?” came a voice from behind her. It was a sign of how frayed her nerves were that Freyja screamed but before sound could really get the sound out something had come out of the mud so fast and dragged her backwards against the wall hand over her mouth. For a moment she was paralysed with fear and then when she allowed eyes to gain sight again she saw two dark eyes staring back at her.

It was a boy she realised. He was not much older than her and he was covered from head to toe in mud. He was wearing a filthy loincloth and Freyja knew from bitter experience that if she reached out she would be able to feel all of his ribs. He was no older than her and his eyes seemed to share the same haunted depth of knowledge that she too remembered sharing.

For a moment she and the boy stared at each other and then he slowly let go of her mouth. Freyja wished she had taken daggers with her but it had been agreed that too many questions would be asked if she was caught in possession of them.

“Apologies” he said finally. “But guards patrol this way and I do not wish to avoid discovery. I have been hiding here since I sold. My name is Henri. I am Gaul” and he stuck out hand.

Freyja took it and shook it.

“I am Freyja, from…” she paused. She did not know where she had originated from. Her mother had never in distant memory spoken of a place. So she decided on as close to the truth as she could get.

“Lands East of the Rhine”

Henri nodded and continued to stare at her. Freyja thought looking at him that she could tell him what she was doing as that was what he was clearly after, also she thought privately that she could take him if he moved to inform guards of plan.

“If you must have the knowledge I am planning to open iron gate so the rebels that follow Spartacus can free you all”

She could perhaps have smoothed over delicate words but she was not in mood to be nice.

The boy stared at her and then he tipped back his head and laughed. Freyja could have kicked him.

“You? With Spartacus?”

Freyja felt her teeth gnash together and she reached for the metal filing carrying on her work with the lock until it broke, she opened gate and there was the shaft of light. It was too high for her to reach. There had been jagged rocks the last time she had tried to climb it, now there were none. She turned back to Henri who was watching her with an interest that set her teeth back on edge and with one finger she beckoned him forwards.

“I need your help” she said flatly. “Lift me up”

Henri did after much of a struggle curiosity making him help. Freyja stuck her hand out of the bars and waved it around feeling something like despair reach her when she realised she was going ignored. Henri dropped her to the ground and she laid there in the mud next to him unable to breathe for a second.

And then…

And then…

And then the doors opened and someone dropped down into the mud.

Uncle Agron.

Within two seconds he had her and then Henri up by the waist and out of the mines into the sunlight. Freyja felt grass underneath her back and air returning to her lungs she turned to see the boy next to her taking huge gulps of air chest heaving.

His eyes found hers. They were wide and blown and shocked.

“Told you” was all he said.

There was another long pause as she took stock in what was happening and then she fainted.

Agron had landed in mud and his mind had become a thing of horror. Hearing what dearest brother had suffered and seeing it were two entirely different things.

Nothing could have made him understand this terror. Nothing could have made him apricate more the fact that his brother was alive and well.

He closed his eyes against the horror. Duro had chosen not to speak of it since their time at the temple. Agron would not diminish brother’s desire by speaking of the humiliation he must have suffered beneath the cruelty of Roman shits. He remembered Freyja and the boy on the grass and unsheathed his sword.

Their lives would be forfeit enough.

But he did not forget.

He would never forget.

When Freyja woke up it was in the villa of a cluster of small villas. After the liberation of the mines they had apparently raided another small cluster so all slaves could bath and eat and sleep as Spartacus, Crixus and some other rebels went to take a valley upon which they would be residing. There were too many of them to hide and too many of them to attack.

Freyja nodded her head to this, dunk her head in the bathwater, got dressed and ate her fill.

She had decided she would not talk of the mines with anyone.

Those memories where hers and hers alone.

They were not something that were to be discussed.

She was rewarded with a hug from her mother and father and a thank you from Spartacus that she thought was worth her weight in gold. Gannicus placed hand upon shoulder and he passed and flashed her a smile but Freyja had someone else she wanted to see.

It was not hard to find him.

He was stood in new clothes dipping his feet into atrium pool with pleasure etched upon face.

“Told you” Freyja said sliding up to Henri—now he was clean she could see he had dark hair, pale skin and a smattering of freckles across nose. The boy who had been eating a piece of chicken sandwiched between two pieces of bread.

He smiled at her.

“I suppose you were right this once. But I will one day be warrior better than you”

Freyja scoffed standing up all good will disappearing. She thought this was a waste of time. She was better of helping mother to help slaves travel to valley where tents were already being set up. For many months they would be there.

Stupid boys she thought resisting urge to stamp her foot.

She resolutely did not think of freckles or dark eyes or smiles that promised anything as she fell to slumber that night. She had her family, her sister, her mother and her father. And a place within rebellion she had earnt as much as anyone fully grown. She had helped free many people today. One boy’s opinion mattered little to her—as she told self sternly.

She did not need anything more than that.

And with that resolute thought, slumber finally, well deservedly, claimed her for a night of dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is adored and appreciated, I wish all of you reading this well and I hope you are all as safe and as happy as can be. 
> 
> I will update as soon as I can.


	18. Wild Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Chapter of War of the Damned—Spartacus and his rebels take up tents on field. 
> 
> Diona waits for her husband as she takes on new role in the rebellion, Freyja is irritated by many, many things and there is a plan put in place to take a city from the clutches of Rome as a new enemy presents themselves. 
> 
> Again some rated M scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter and this is the first one of War of the Damned so we are heading into the last arc of this story. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just this story and some of these characters and as always in my notes spelling, grammar and this type of language is always trying so take everything with a pinch of salt. 
> 
> As always stay safe and I wish you all well.

The weeks had turned into months. They had taken up shelter in the valley with tents as far as the eye could see. They were in no danger from advancing Roman troops. As the weeks progressed Diona realised that for the first time since she had become part of the rebellion that they were outnumbering the Romans.

It was a heady feeling, they were slaves and for once their masters were afraid of them, they were far from Capua and with every step they took away from the city Diona found that she could breath a bit more easily. And then they heard the news.

A week before the battle against Cossinius and Furius a messenger Spartacus had amongst the streets of Capua told them the news. The wife of Glaber and Lucreitia both dead. Diona had been in the middle of making sure the number of children from the mines that did not have parents at least had a tent and warm food and a place to sleep away from the more…dangerous…rebels when Naevia her face white and her eyes wide came in to tell them that the woman who had sold them both for base entertainment was dead. The babe was dead too and for a reason that was both known and unknown they did not see Spartacus for three days. Diona had simply found herself sequestered in Naevia’s tent—Crixus and Duro banished where they had drank more than they had ever drank before, cried, and had given themselves over to the anger and the emotion that came when they realised that they were free truly free from the memories.

And they were Diona told Duro two days later when she had returned to their tent and he had fetched her water and food with a look upon face of such boyish unsureness she felt her heart melt. She found that with the last link to her past sent to the afterlife she was free of the memories that kept her up at night and flinching away from touch. She found from the first time that she had heard news she was desperate for the touch of the one man she trusted beyond all and she found that her enjoyment of sex was stronger than she had ever felt before.

Her tolerance for the wine that Duro found increased as well but she placed the blame for this solely at Naevia’s door the woman made Gannicus look sober at times.

There have been many battles. But the biggest one took place along the ridge of some field that she was only half paying attention too. Since the end of the mines Spartacus had placed Diona in charge of the children freed. Some had families and she was responsible for feeding the ones that did not and making sure they were safe. There were absences within the battle. Aron and Luc two boys of sixteen years on their first battle. Luci and Amelia two girls who bore scars the same as Diona’s who had learnt their trade under the harsh but steady hand of Crixus. And then there were the other children who were orphaned who needed to learn how to read and write and speak within a common tongue. Sometimes other rebels joined her lessons, certainly Diona was not going to let anything stop the yeast of common communication spread throughout the rebellion. She found her respect for Spartacus grew at each passing day because he had fulfilled his promise and had seen to it that she did not raise sword. She still wore one only because Duro had insisted and it had seemed good sense to still wear it surrounded as she was by so many people.

She had been in process of making sure food was passed around children before rebels returned. Meat was in scare supply and she found that she could only hope for another raid. They were taking small villas to steal food but there were more rebels to feed and their number was growing with each passing day. Also the reality was that food when they did have it went to the people who could pick up sword and fight.

She could hear the rebels returning home victorious before she laid eyes upon them. She had returned to tent—Freyja and Cecelija would run and great Duro upon his arrival and if the news had been of a injury or worse she took comfort in the knowledge that she would have been told. If Agron was not coming to tent then she knew that Duro was still of the living. Besides she knew that if the Gods called her husband to the shores of the Afterlife she would know.

How could someone as vibrant as Duro leave this life without the Gods letting her know?

She put down the fabric she had been folding and took stock of self in the ivory looking glass that she had shamelessly stolen from the villa where she had let go of scars and taken ownership of her life again.

There were two tents close to each other where they resided. Soft covers and furs and silks made up the bed where Diona and Duro slept with chest of their and the children’s belongings and the tent close to theirs which was decidedly messier which belonged to the girls who shared a bed and a small space for time alone when night fell where they all received much needed privacy.

This was not the first battle that Cecelija and Freyja had seen Duro come back from unscathed, they knew what happened, they tended to play with the other children or train with them depending on each child and then come home to tent when the stars were coming out to show their faces and the moon was luminous and creamy in the sky.

“Another victory” Duro said upon entering tent his faced flushed with victory. Diona smiled at him trying to hide the immense relief when she saw that he was unharmed. No cuts upon skin or scars added to collection. Duro caught her looking and his smile was as soft as the kiss he gave her which was as light as a feather. His mouth found Diona’s neck and she smiled her hand reaching behind her to pull the braided locks downwards for a better angle.

“Children have disappeared to cause chaos some place far from here” he said quietly. His hands found Diona’s waist cupping the fabric. The dress she was wearing was a turquoise colour with fabric that tied around her neck and she added gold bracelets and other beaded trinkets were she wanted to. The power to choose what she wore, what she did with her hair loose and curling rather than some pinned back off her face was intoxicating.

But there was something that needed to be attended to before she could make love to her husband.

He had to wash.

Never again would Diona allow herself to be taken by a man covered in sweat and blood and battle again. Duro sighed pulling back and stripping self of armour. Diona watched as he ran cloth with the water she had prepared up and down arms and legs scrubbing hard at the dirt and the blood. She scrubbed his back for him and then once he was clean and naked and gloriously exposed she found that she was moist with desire for him. She wanted her husband back from battle, his body and hair dripping with water as he ran cloth over self to dry. He turned body flexing and side catching the low sun through tent fabric and the taunt muscles of his stomach catching. She felt another pool of desire coil in her belly and between her legs.

Very slowly she reached behind her, to where the ties of her dress were and inch by inch released the fabric so that it pooled around her feet. A combination of sleep, free from haunted memories and a strong bounty of food had made her body change. Her body had adapted to change in circumstance, her skin was clearer and her ribs were no longer showing, her hips no longer stuck out, her cheeks were filled and she had muscles that had grown strong, her breasts had grown and her skin was more freckled due to time spent in the sun. The slave girl from the mines had died when they had been liberated and this Diona was a Diona that was desperate for her husband’s touch.

Duro picked her up so that her legs were wrapped around her waist and he moulded their lips together so that they were inseparable, almost as if they were one being. Duro walked them back until they hit the pillows and the furs and Diona let out a sigh as he began the well practiced path of kissing downwards throughout her body, lavishing time on her breasts, suckling and kissing until she was gasping and arching into touch and then just as she thought she might climax from those ministrations alone he pulled off and with that same feral grin of enjoyment he buried his face in her cunt and began to slowly lick at her as if cat lapping at milk.

Diona’s hands found purchase in his hair again her eyes fluttered closed. It did not matter how many times Duro could use his mouth to gain pleasure from her, it never failed to make her rise to unimagined heights. It was a thing in their sexual activities, in fact she was beginning to wonder if he loved it more than she did.

Duro swirled his tongue throughout her body until she was climaxing and he slid up with that same languorous movement he always had to prop self on elbow and watch her his face still shining with both pride and Diona’s pleasure evident.

Diona moved so that she was on top of him. This had soon become a rapidly popular position from which she could gain vantage. And like her husband, she too had learnt the art of pleasure and with that….wicked thought she bent her head and took his cock into her mouth using much the same techniques that he had just used upon her. Time to get to explore each other’s body had given Diona the knowledge to please him and she took great delight in bringing pleasure to him. She used her tongue to follow the vein down the side of his cock and Duro swore in his own language, the words bleeding together and then just at the point where Diona knew his release was near she pulled away her mouth making an obscene popping noise.

Duro cracked one eye open looking at her with profound disbelief but Diona smiled at him a half smile that she knew reflected a loaded promise. She slid back up her husband’s body and then before she could open his mouth she lowered herself down onto him. A groan escaped her mouth mingling with Duro who pressed a hand to her shoulder blade pulling her downwards so that their mouths could mould together. He pushed himself upwards so that she was sitting on his lap their bodies still intertwined and then Duro was thrusting upward his hard body against hers and his mouth moulded against hers.

The first time post battle was always harder and then the second time when the girls were asleep was slower and gentler, were they would map out the changes in each other’s body. But as her pleasure mounted and then crested peek of climax Diona found that she was simply happy to be wrapped within her husband’s arms once more. Duro pulled her back on top of him when they had completed and then pulled a soft blanket over them and began to trace patterns on her back with the pad of one calloused finger.

“They got away” he said into the silence. Diona who had been content to lay there in his arms propped her head up on her elbow and stared at him.

“Cossinius and Furius?” she asked though she knew that question was not needed. Duro pulled face his cheek moving furiously against the emotion battling inside of him before he nodded his confirmation.

“We destroyed their armies, broke through their western flank, I was with Crixus and Naevia when task was completed. We saw the field thick with the dead only to have victory soured by the knowledge that the men responsible had gotten away”

Diona acknowledged the blow. Many rebels in this battle had lost their lives and victory had been assured. In a way there was a victory but Diona knew that the escape of the men that they had tried to kill weighed upon mind. And would also see another battle. She felt her stomach swoop in anxiety and she pressed her finger upon the dimple of his cheek so that he looked at her.

“Strike these Roman’s from mind” she chided gently. “For they will fall to deserved end, right now you have your wife naked in your arms and a short amount of time before your children return demanding food, attention and stories about the battle you have just been victorious with. And your wife…” here she lowered her tone and flashed Duro the hint of a smile she knew that he would interpret correctly.

“Wants your hands and your mind on something far more important than your sword”

Duro grinned looking like the cocksure arrogant man he had once been. His body twisted so that Diona was lying on her back with her legs spread bracketing his body with her own. She sighed in anticipation of pleasure to come. Duro’s mouth when it came down on hers, his hands finding her breasts, was as hard and unyielding as the rest of his battle-hardened body and the afternoon was awash with pleasure.

Dinner that night was a simple affair, it usually was as their father had spent most of the evening when the dark night fell and stars twinkled over the valley in tent with Spartacus and the other Generals.

Freyja did not know much about how decisions were made now rebellion had grown beyond wildest expectations but she knew that there was Spartacus who led them followed by his Generals who were Crixus, Gannicus (abet reluctantly) and Uncle Agron. She knew that her father, Aunt Naevia and Saxa all took part in decisions that affected the training, the logistics of the battlefield and the intelligence that always ensured they were one step ahead of the Romans. Even her mother went to some meetings if only because she was there to ensure the weak, the vulnerable and the children were not forgotten.

She was aware right now there was one going on in the tent upon the hill where Spartacus resided. Right now she was walking from tent to tent trying to get use to sword in hand. She was still finding it too heavy and even though rebel she had taken it from had succumbed from wounds.

“That should be given to Crixus” came voice from behind her. Freyja did not even have to turn around to know that it was Henri. The twerp had an annoying habit of following her around. She turned to see him leaning against the trunk of a tree his own smaller sword in hand—though how he had gotten hands upon that she did not know.

“I know” she said feeling rather perturbed over the fact that he had gotten through her defences with such speed.

Henri jumped down from the trunk he was resting upon and uninvited walked alongside her.

“I have been told” he said finally. “That I should offer you gratitude for saving my life” he said nothing else and Freyja was aware that she had, had no speaking contact with him since she had saved him from the mines.

“By who?”

“My brother”

Freyja stopped dead.

“You have a brother? Still of this world?”

“Yes” Henri said simply “And you know him, his name is Luc. He…he thinks I should have been of a nicer temperament and he smacked me upside the head for it”

Freyja paused as she stood there and then she nodded because despite the fact that she thought he was an annoying twerp she had to admit that she did not hate him. And she had to admit that she wanted to know more about him and that left her with a feeling she did not want to analyse at this present time.

“How did you reunite?” she asked. It was a truthful question and it was one she was curious about as well.

“He was in different part of mines, we got separated, you know” he said nodding in Freyja’s direction. She nodded because she did know. She had lived through it just as he had. Irritating Gaul.

“It is just us.” He said without a hint of sadness in his voice. “And he has come back filled with battle and blood and wine and a girl by the name of Malia. And I am now in search of food to give them some privacy, so there it is.”

“Well I am not sharing food with you” Freyja said bluntly. Henri rolled his eyes. “Sometimes” he said finally before he pushed past her “Girls can be so useless”

“And boys are stupid!” Freyja yelled back before stalking off in opposite direction.

Uncle Agron was right she decided.

Fucking Gauls.

-

There was something afoot. Diona did not want to know but she knew that something was going on because Spartacus, Crixus and Gannicus were gone and Agron and Duro were looking as if their noses were completely out of joint. Diona also did not want to know because the less people who knew that Spartacus had left was better as far as her opinion lay.

And if she was being honest with self she was relieved that Duro was not at forefront of mad battle. There seemed to be too many of those recently for her peace of mind. She would not become like Naevia who was caged lion whenever Crixus was absent side.

Though she did not enjoy the way temper flared preferring to be with children who despite studies were more than content to sit in their tent winding down the day in idle pleasure weather it drawing (Cecelija) or weather or not it was lining up the jade and ivory and gold animals that had been stolen along the way to the valley (Freyja) or reading which was what they both tended to do since Diona had banned training from the tent after Freyja had whirled her practice sword around claiming she was practicing her war cry and had taken down her tent, hit Cecelija in the eye and then Agron in the shin when he had been forced to awaken from slumber in alarm thinking his niece was being set upon by the Romans.

Duro had nearly pissed himself laughing so hard.

Diona had taken a more measured approach.

Duro right now was torn between annoyance at being left behind and pleasure. Diona knowing in the way she knew (because she found that she knew her husband in an intimate way she had never known another man the way she knew him) that his right shoulder were a new scar had appeared was giving him twinges of discomfort. She was rubbing oil into the shoulder feeling the tight knot of muscle thrum almost under her ministrations when the tent flap opened and Nasir entered with gentle smile. Naevia behind him her body more lax than Diona had seen so far in the evening. Clearly Crixus was back.

“They have returned, Spartacus would hold main meeting of minds in morning but Gannicus has wine and words, Cossinus and Furius are gone from this life”

Duro stood stretching, kissed her gently and then left to go and share wine and battle stories with the men. Naevia deposited herself of her sword and then sat down holding out her own jug. Nasir followed. Diona washed hands and grinned, she enjoyed spending time with her friends, Duro had his brother and the gladiators and the company of homeland amongst Lugo, Saxa and Nemetes. She had always had Naevia and she found Nasir made pleasant addition to their company because once he too had been house slave and despite appearance had a high tolerance for gossip and wine.

“So we dispatch two more enemies to the afterlife” Diona said leaning back upon her makeshift bed wine in hand. “Does Spartacus share thoughts upon who Rome will send after us next?”

“There is talk of a man called Marcus Crassus” Nasir said into the silence. Naevia shot Diona a look and she felt her eyebrows rise of their own accord, she too had heard that name. Without warning she thought of her old mistress who alongside their master had lauded the exploits of Marcus Crassus claiming him to be the richest man in all the Republic. If you made friend of the man you were guaranteed comfort, power and patronage for the rest of your days. She dropped her gaze missing some of the conversation as she tried not to shiver.

Suddenly she wanted her husband back.

Naevia and Nasir eventually left for their own tents, wine, good companionship and gossip had made them all feel more comfortable and even Diona had managed to shake off her worries and enjoy the night. As soon as they left she checked on her children and then did a quick check on the other children—most of the orphan ones in tents near the crest of the hill so that she could ensure comfort and well being and then she slipped back to her own tent upon seeing them all to slumber—even the older ones who she had, had to on more than one occasion had to pry cup of wine out of hand least they loose their sensibilities and commit actions they would later regret when wine cleared from head.

When she returned to tent Duro was already naked of armour and beneath covers his eyes flickering against the candle light as she blew out the necessary ones, she then slid out of her dress and replaced it with the softer white gauze that she wore to slumber. Duro turned so that he was on his side and he wrapped his arms around her belly, rubbing his callused thumb against her hipbone. There was a pause as he placed kissed to her cheek and then he dropped his head against her shoulder and before Diona could drop the soft smile from her face he had fallen asleep. She lay there staring into the darkness and then eventually slumber claimed her.

There was no reason to have fear she thought to herself, she was here in her husband’s arms, with her children next to her and rebels on either side that would defend her. No man would ever lay his hands upon her again and no man would ever hurt her again. Not even the all-powerful Marcus Crassus.

But before slumber came to her Diona shivered again and wondered abet briefly what it was about this nameless, faceless man and his promise of wild justice to all who had struck against Rome that sent shivers of an unrecognisable emotion, down her spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you are, I hope you enjoyed it despite the awkwardly written smut scenes, and I will endeavour to update as soon as I am able to. 
> 
> As always feedback is always beyond 100% appreciated.


	19. Suffer The Little Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duro upon Spartacus’s instructions lays waste to the city of Sinuessa en Valley as the rebels take another step forwards to the annihilation of Rome. 
> 
> Duro finds that he has conflicted feelings over events that have taken place and learns information no father really likes to hear. 
> 
> Freyja and Henri meanwhile take part in the massacre of Romans and come across sight that reminds them both that despite all they have lived through they are in fact—children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter. There is not much smut in this one but there will be a copious amount of one in the next chapter so please be warned if you do not like. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just this story and some of these characters and as always in my notes spelling, grammar and this type of language is always trying so take everything with a pinch of salt. 
> 
> As always stay safe and I wish you all well.

The plan was rather straight forward. At least in the sense of plans that were concocted from the fevered brain of Spartacus. Agron had come to tell him that they were taking a city from Rome and Duro had whooped like boy of Lands East of the Rhine. The thought of taking a city from the fucks was intoxicating. 

More so (though Agron could not understand desire in the same way) was the knowledge that taking a city would mean the women in his life would once again be swaddled in the lap of luxury that he knew they preferred. There would be opportunity to gain access to a house with a bath and with rooms for the children and clothes and jewels. He wanted that for them all. He wanted to be the man who could provide for his family. The lessons his father had taught him were as such that he could not forget them easily. 

So the desire to take the city was strong. Diona did not think much of it when Duro had told her of the plan, she had been in the process of ensuring orphaned children had warm cloaks. Winter would soon be upon them and Duro who had survived and seen friends not survive the harsh winters of Lands East of the Rhine did not look forwards to it coming.

Diona passed on a selection of harsh wool blankets to a young girl of about ten years of age who began to lock them away in smooth wooden trunks with a soft smile and then turned to Duro. 

“I can think of so many things that can see failure brought to this task” she said finally. “But if it succeeds then do find a house with a bath” 

Duro laughed and kissed her moulding their mouths together fiercely. She did not ask if Spartacus intended to use archers. If the answer was yes as he knew that Diona knew (strategically she understood the finer points of battle even if she did not participate in them anymore) then she would know that Spartacus had asked him if they could use Freyja and Duro knowing that the clever girl would do it anyway had said yes. 

But Diona had known all of that. Gossip flew through this camp like disease and pregnancy but nothing compared to the force that was Naevia who had lost and suffered much under Roman hands and yet had never once lost her ability to share gossip. 

Freyja sheathed her bow and climbed the rungs of the city ladder following Yacob a tall man from the land of the Romani’s who had a plaited braid longer than Freyja’s own hair and who had a series of tattoos that he said were from homeland. His appearance was as such that Freyja had once felt fear from him but she had soon come to apricate his presence. He had wife and babe on the way and he had been rescued from the slave markets at the port where many ships docked alongside many rebels after they had liberated mines. Her father liked him on sight and his wife and her mother occasionally came together for a cup of wine and some mending as night fell around camp—he was also skilled beyond measure with a bow and Freyja trusted skill beyond anything else. 

The city ladder would lead them to position and then when the gates opened they would provide cover fire to the rebels entering city and stop any Roman guards from standing in way. Already several had been killed as Spartacus and Gannicus waged silent war within the city. 

Freyja peered over the edge seeing guards crumpled to ground before she ducked down again waiting for order to be given. She followed instruction to where there was a several short planks of wood so some guard could stand and peer over walls to see threat coming, she dropped down nimbly as instructed and waited until signal was given. 

Then someone else dropped down next to her. Freyja closed eyes for a heartbeat—she had a feeling who this person was and she knew she was asking too much of the Gods for it to be someone else. 

Henri, his freckled face (a sure sign of his Gualishness) was loading an arrow into his own bow. It was not as good as Freyja’s she acknowledged and then immediately chastised herself for the childish thought. Spartacus had entrusted her to do this for the rebellion and she was not going to let him down when he had done so much for her sake. 

“Luc is fighting” he said finally. “I know I should not worry. If the Gods call him to our shores then I should not fight against it but he all the family I have in the world”

Freyja paused, she was not sure what to say to that. 

“I pray that it does not happen” she said finally. “I pray Luc sends many Roman’s to the afterlife” 

And then without thinking she reached out and touched his hand curling her fingers around his. Henri looked at their hands and then at her and then squeezed them and then without warning he leaned forward and kissed her, his lips brushing her cheek. 

Freyja did not know how to respond to that but she knew that it was not in disgust as she would have said maybe a week ago. Instead she responded with her usual grace. 

“Do that again and the Romans will be the least of your worries” she snapped turning back to the attention of the Roman guards who were still prowling the streets and determinedly ignoring both the tingling in her cheeks that were easily made to blush at such attention and the utterly amused grin that the shit-eating Gaul next to her was wearing. 

It had turned into a complete mess of shit. Duro had fought in many battles but somewhere upon entering city this had turned from battle to massacre. He was fighting with Agron, Nasir, Saxa, Lugo and a boy not much older than sixteen who might have been the brother of one of Freyja’s friends and he realised for a heartbeat that his sword had not pierced the flesh of a soldier but rather than of a woman who had looked at him with utter terror in her eyes before he had struck her down from this world. 

He acknowledged that for a second even as his body and memory too ingrained not too—began to fight. The Roman’s had come for him and Agron and many others and hundreds of their tribe and neighbouring tribes had fallen to needless slaughter. Was that any different than this? 

He did not want to think of what Diona would say when she caught sight of what he knew would be thousands of dead (and mostly innocent) women and children who had been caught between Spartacus’s desires and the rest of the rebellions vengeance. He went into a sort of strange trance when completing the task that was taking the city 

Soon they won. He had not expected anything less. But as Duro looked around he could apricate for the first time the loss that came with this rebellion on both sides. He sighed wiping his sword down before setting down path following brother, he was suddenly aware of hiss and curse behind him and he turned to see boy trying to dab at cut on arm. The sword that had nicked him had cut him deep but not in a way that threatened life. Duro bent down and ripped fabric from dress of dead Roman woman and then wrapped it around the boys arm as tourniquet so that the bleeding stilled somewhat. 

“Gratitude” the boy said. He was still a boy despite the blood on his sword and the crazed look disappearing in his eyes was proof of that. He seemed to have no sense of what he had done and Duro could understand. Slaying soldiers was one thing, it was a necessary thing for their continued survival but this was the slaying of innocent women and children condemned for their blood in much the same way the rebels had been. It turned out there was not much difference between Romans and slaves. Duro shook his head trying to rid brain of these thoughts. They would do no good and they would not change anything. 

“Come on boy. We will meet with others at gate and see this city ours”

“Your are Diona’s husband” the boy said. He could not be more than sixteen years of life and he seemed much like boy rather than man even though his eyes told different story. 

“Yes” 

“My name is Luc, I was in mines with brother Henri. He talks about your daughter constantly” 

_ That  _ did stop Duro in tracks.

“Freyja?!” he asked his tone a tad higher than it had been before. Luc nodded wiping his face with back of hand and wincing as he saw the blood, the mud and the sweat all congealed. Luc let out small smile. 

“Aye, I do not think it more than childish infatuation, after all they are both eleven and I can assure you our mother raised us to more respect for women than for our Gods but I thought you should be aware of infatuations, I would prefer it if you did not run him through. He’s all the family I have left to me” 

Duro hissed. He did not want to be cause of such upset but seriously? Did he not have enough to cause concern without wondering about his daughter and a _fucking Gaul?!_

Oh this was too much. He wanted his wife now. She at least would know what to do with this information. 

Freyja dropped downwards from her post only when she was signalled to. Henri dropped down next to her his eyes wide. Freyja was about to ask him just what it was when she peered past him and saw what had stolen his breath away. 

It was a three year old child clutched to mothers chest. 

Both were dead. 

And suddenly Freyja had to look away least she start crying. She could not explain why the sight suddenly affected her—after all she had seen worse within mines. 

But it had done so. 

The house Duro had taken her and a slumbering Cecelija too was down a small street. It was close to the main villa upon which Spartacus would be residing in but far away from any whorehouse or other spot of inequity. Diona had ensured Malia the eldest of the girls who were not fighting to make sure that the children had a custody of two houses down another safe side street with the promise that she would call on them in the morning. She could only hope wine and victory would not go to their heads.

Cecelija had taken to slumbering against Duro’s shoulder. Dawn had just crested peek but the night had been long and fraught and too many of them had worried themselves awake throughout the sacking of the city. Diona was glad she was asleep. The sight of what had taken place had her eyes wide and her own stomach sickened. 

She was no fool, she had known that this would happen. Too many of the rebels were untried, had suffered beyond measure and were hungry for blood. She could remember when she had last held sword and had been caught up within the emotions of battle that desire to end life that would cause nothing but suffering. But they had been men in armour with cruel intent. They had not been innocent women and children. 

She could only hope that Spartacus would have bodies disposed off in the morning. Most of the orphaned children had been sleeping or close to sleeping and the older ones were hardened against most sights but she did not like a prolonged exposure for such horrors. 

“The boy Luc and his brother, I sent to join your eldest girl in house” Duro said as he pushed open door. “I checked. No children lived within these walls. Freyja had bathed and was in process of bed when I left to come find you. I hope she has refilled bath before she has given herself over to slumber.” 

He said this with a grin that did nothing to hide the exhaustion pulling at the lines around eyes. Diona sighed, the urge to have an actual bed for the night was pressing upon her as well. 

“We will get trunks when we wake up” Duro said softly pushing open heavy door of a handsome town house. “Agron has most in hand—he is residing in villa next door” Diona smiled and looked around at their new home. 

It was a handsome house, the floors were marble and there was a room for residing, two pools filled with water trickling away merrily. The three bedrooms were decorated in cloth of gold and silver and silk, there were large beds in each room. There were chest of draws that as Diona bent to open were filled with furs, sandals, dresses of many different designs. There were jewels of all kinds decorating the gold table of the Domina’s robing room and a bath that was still steaming. Freyja had changed, her clothes in a neat little pile into a red dress that would have to be re-ripped upon waking to fit her but she was swaddled under a thick coverlet her eyelashes fluttering in sleep. Diona swept back some of the drying mounds of hair mentally preparing herself for the tangles that would happen upon morning and kissed the smooth skin of her eldest daughter’s forehead before returning to the main bedroom, Duro having deposited Cecelija in the second bedroom. 

She stripped and sunk into bath feeling that luxury of hot scented water, it was a quick and brisk wash, Duro could hardly keep eyes open. Diona did not mind, she thought that when he was done with tasks for Spartacus tomorrow she would take him to bed and render him boneless for the rest of the night. She felt herself grow wet at thought and once again marvelled at feelings of desire that would have months ago felt foreign and strange. 

Duro still naked but clean and dry was to slumber as soon as his head hit soft pillow and after Diona made sure that the door was locked and they were safe and that she was clean as well found soft silver chemise to slip into. She slid beneath the covers her body once again lost to the sensual, carnal pleasure that came with taking something that had long since been denied her and she snuggled beneath her husband’s shoulder. 

Before she was claimed by dreams she thought that she could only hope that someone had cleaned up the streets and that the bodies were gone and that the Gods weather they were hers or Duro’s would allow her to keep this, this house, this man, this family, this happiness for a long time to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will keep trying to update as soon as I can. 
> 
> Feedback is as always worth it's weight in gold.


	20. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Duro and Diona adapt to their new circumstances , Diona notices radical change taking over Naevia and the pirates arrive bringing with them distrust and danger and causing several unsettling memories to be revisited as the power plays begin to shift between the main players within the rebellion. 
> 
> AGAIN MAJOR SMUT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER. CHAPTER RATED M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, so here is another chapter, and we are now only seven away from the completion of this story. As I stated above their is major smut warnings for this chapter so if you wish to avoid this then you might want to give this one a miss. 
> 
> And just a comment on Naevia as I know this season she divides fans quite a bit. I do like Naevia and the actress did an admirable job. I think like a lot of couples Crixus and Naevia were in their 'Honeymoon Period' during Vengeance and even though Asher is dead Naevia still has a lot of trauma to process. She was raped continually and as she says describing her experiences, mutilated on more than one occasion simply because it was considered normal within Roman culture for slaves to be used like that, certainly she seems to think she cannot have children and that's a huge loss for her as well I think. She's been a slave her whole life from birth as well so I think she struggles with letting go of that mantle as well unlike Crixus, Agron and Spartacus who all had families prior to becoming slaves. So I don't hate her or her decisions or think she's annoying. I think she is just doing her best to keep her head above water and so therefore while she might say and do some questionable things in both War of the Damned and this story if you are looking for some Naevia bashing you will have to go somewhere else. 
> 
> And now that rant is over i'll let you get on with the story. 
> 
> Disclaimers are always the same, spelling, grammar and the style of language may change throughout this chapter and only the wonderful rebel OCs are mine. 
> 
> Please Read and Review

Diona was awoken by two things, the sunlight streaming in through open space in house reflecting in glittering diamonds on the water and the sound of whispers coming from the front door.

Being the mother of two girls for many months now Diona was well attuned to the sounds of children at mischief. She knew that both girls would go exploring—Cecelija had not seen any of the city they now were housed in and dead bodies or no dead bodies nothing would stop Freyja from doing what she wanted.

She stood up sliding a dark green silk dress over her body and tying it into a knot. Duro was still slumbering and Diona knew that the orphans that she usually looked after were as such that many of them would be abed. The rebellion was use to taking days and perhaps weeks between battles to relax before gaining momentum for training and there was much to be done in the aftermath of the actions of last night.

The girls were by the front door dragging between the two of them the heavy trunk that contained their belongings. The one containing Duro and Diona’s belongings was next to it and Diona surmised that Agron had begun the dispersing of the rebellions wagons and trunks. Both of the girls had clearly found clothing and had changed into clean dresses—pale blue for Cecelija and a yellow for Freyja that was violently ripped and cut so that she did not trip over fabric. Diona thought for a heartbeat about all the work that would have gone into making and procuring the two silk dresses that were currently adorning the two children in front of her and had to stifle a laugh bubbling within her for reasons she could not name.

“Well?” she said raising her eyebrow and Freyja and Cecelija whipped around with the gaze of two children who had just been caught.

“Uncle Agron brought things and to tell you that Spartacus does not want to meet main leaders until afternoon.” Freyja said finally. “Also Luc and Malia have dealt food to orphans and brought some to us. Pitch upon grain has ruined most supplies but there is another of rations left. And the removal of the bodies has begun, they are burning all the women and children and salting the men so that rot can set in at length—” she wrinkled her nose at this but continued nonetheless.

“Also they have chained Roman prisoners so they can live”

“That’s Spartacus’s flawed reasoning” came Duro’s voice from the atrium. Diona smiled.

“And the two of you wish to go exploring within city?”

“Cecelija does, I want to go shoot my bow at butts that are being set up. And I need more arrows”

Diona turned to stare at Duro who was now leaning against pillar of house sheet wrapped around waist for modesty. He still looked exhausted and she knew what he needed was a morning in the bath with food, wine a bed and sleep.

“Yes you can go out” Duro ruled for them. “I doubt there will be much danger but remember” he said suddenly stern. “This rebellions has grown. I want you to stay with people you know and stay away from gate. Also I want you to remember that the Roman’s chained to city walls have been given safety by Spartacus and therefore they are not to be abused or spat at or cat called. Other rebels might do it but I do not expect it from you. I will be most displeased to hear that you have engaged in such activity”

Both girls nodded. Diona knew that both of her daughters had far too much love and respect for their father to disobey his conditions and she held firm to conviction that they would not cause harm or hurt where it was not needed.

She let the children out and then locked door behind her.

Duro ran hand through hair tugging on strands with absent expression and Diona once again saw the exhaustion pulling at him. The fighting had gone long into the night and only days prior her husband had held command of a legion of rebels that had took the ridge. The adrenaline and the emotion and the exhaustion had taken hold.

“Go back to slumber” she said with a soft smile. “I will see to the trunks and then see to bath and food”

Duro smiled at her and then went back to the mass of silk sheets and furs that made up the Dominus bed.

It took moments to unpack their possessions. She saw to it that Freyja and Cecelija had separate beds made up and then she took to making dresses fit their bodies. Needlework had always been something that she had done when under their old Domina and she had learnt her craft well. Certainly better than Naevia who struggled to thread a needle and had no patience for it. She claimed a dress for self of the darkest purple edged in gold that was tied around her waist and neck in style she preferred by gold chain. She also liberated the matching veil because she liked it and she could. Freedom in some respects still made her feel giggly. She did not have to wait until her Domina tired of something to get it. She could just take if for her own.

She loved how her husband seemed to have talent for finding house for them that was owned by rich childless Roman fucks.

Duro woke at noon looking more alive than he had done so previously and submerged himself into hot bath for several hours. Diona scrubbed at him running wet silken cloth over the hard muscles in his back as she always did and then when Duro was fed and dressed in new clothes his armour battered but still worth keeping Diona was pleased to see spark of fire back within eyes.

Duro kissed her hard, mouths moulding together as always and she moaned into kiss.

“Spartacus would yet wish to see you” she said as air forced them to part and Duro’s hands found her arse and he hoisted her with ease around his waist thrusting forwards to show desire.

“Fuck Spartacus” he said grinning. Diona grinned back finding the golden chain keeping her dress up.

“I should be languishing my attentions on you” she said grinning as Duro’s hand found her breast and she reached for his loin cloth. “I had plans to spread you out over bed and make you climax until you remembered nothing but my name and that I was your woman”

Duro growled against her neck. “Woman the world could be ending and would be your man through and through. And anytime you want to spread me out over bed and make me forget all but your touch you give me signal and Jupiter himself will have to fuck off”

Diona laughed even as Duro pressed open mouth kisses across her stomach as he moved his mouth lower to the place where Diona wanted it more than anything…

“Duro! Spartacus would have you by gates. Men are approaching!”

Duro his mouth inches from her navel groaned. Diona forced herself to pull away feeling beyond frustrated. Then thought came to her that made her stiffen.

“Girls?”

Duro cursed and then they were both out of door and heading down path towards main gate of the city. Diona wrapped shawl around her shoulders and followed grabbing small knife from table. She might not like to fight but that did not mean that she could if opportunity forced itself upon her.

The main gates were crowed with rebels but Duro led them to place where Agron was standing, Freyja and Cecelija were next to him small and almost forgotten amongst the sea of rebels that were crowding around.

“What happened?” Duro asked. Agron lifted shoulder. “Word has spread that we have taken the city”

So much for Spartacus hoping to keep information from Roman ears for as long as possible, Diona thought rolling eyes heavenward. She had not expected actions to be kept shrouded forever but she had not expected attack to be this soon.

“Romans?”

“No” Agron said shaking head and gripping sword. “Not by appearance according to Sanus.”

Duro was about to ask another question Diona knew but then Spartacus who had been stood silently mulling things over no doubt came to decision.

“Raise the gate”

The effect was instantaneous. Duro pushed backwards so Diona was behind him and Agron took almost the same path pushing Cecelija towards Diona. Cecelija took her hand and stayed quiet and Diona watched heart in mouth as Freyja looped an arrow into her bow. She had seen her daughter to a battle twice now but the determined and yet strangely blank look on the little face she had come to love was strangely heart-breaking.

“Freyja?” she whispered to Duro.

“Agron will take her out of battle the second it becomes dangerous. I will protect you and Cecelija”

Diona took note of the fact that he had clearly thought about this and pressed her face to his shoulder to hide her expression for a second before curiosity got the better of both her and her daughter. Hoisting Cecelija onto her hip (her body protested at that profusely) she peered round.

The men were not what one would consider Romans. The main one had hair coming to waist and more tattoos upon skin than Diona had ever seen before. He seemed to be leader.

“What shit is this?”

That was Agron. Diona wanted to tell him (because she seemed to be the only one that cared) to at least try and remember that there were children in their presence. Through the months in tents on the valley she had heard enough to know that both of her daughters could let out a string of words that would make several gladiators blush.

“Brigands of Silica”

That was Gannicus.

“Pirates?” Agron asked his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Pirates!” Freyja said her eyes wide in a way that Diona knew meant nothing good. Duro’s whole body gave a tight, taunt twitch.

Agron disappeared into the crowd to reach Spartacus, Gannicus followed.

“Freyja, Cecelija, I want you to go back to the house and remain their until either your mother or I come back—now!”

There was an undercurrent in his tone that made Diona blink fear wrapping around her heart. Duro had not told her to go back—well he knew her better than that—they had been through too much to not be together in the face of danger.

“You are certain father? I can take two of them with one arrow if they stand in correct path”

Freyja. Diona once again closed her eyes in despair but Duro grinned his thumb coming up to brush against their eldest daughter’s chin.

“You do need to defend me or your mother dear one. Go home and shoot anyone who steps through the door that you do not know. Including the Gaul”

Diona raised her eyebrow. She had no inkling of what he was on about and she also noticed blush on her daughters cheek that she did not know about but she was sure she would find out at some point.

Freyja wrapped her bow over her shoulders and then disappeared down the streets Cecelija in tow.

“Gauls” Duro said contempt in his tone his gaze following them.

“What?”

“Luc, Henri’s brother has informed me his brother has an infatuation with our daughter”

Diona blinked again and then laughed.

“That is rather sweet”

Duro looked at her as if she had taken leave of her senses but before she could elaborate further Spartacus said in loud ringing tones that the command would take this conversation with the pirates indoors.

Diona who never considered herself part of the command moved to follow her children and to ensure safety of other orphaned children but Duro reached out to grab wrist. She turned giving him a look but he shook his head his jaw tight. Diona knew he was warring with himself about some unspoken emotion but before she could say anything they were moving back to the villa that had once belonged to the man who had ran this city and condemned many acts of cruelty. She saw that Naevia, Crixus, Gannicus, Agron, Nasir, Lugo, Saxa and others were following. They were the ones who had been with Spartacus when they had left the mountains of Vesuvius and had followed him since.

Duro listened in mounting disbelief. He shot look at Agron but his gaze was firmly fixed upon man of dark skin who in between his scowling was shooting Nasir attentive looks. Duro resisted urge to hit brother. As if Nasir would ever look elsewhere!?

The conversation ebbed and flowed and Duro was half listening to it and half not. He was more than happy to entertain thoughts of cup of good wine and his wife’s company rather than deal with these unclean shits.

The conversation had ended when it happened.

“And may I ask King Spartacus, if any of the women here are available?”

This was coming from the unpleasant shit who claimed to be leader. Duro had not and would not bother to learn name, he had no interest in the issues he was bringing forth with Spartacus. He leaned forwards and his fingers reached out to touch a lock of Diona’s hair.

Several things happened at once.

Diona flinched backwards a look of fear upon face the likes of which Duro had not seen since days of Mines. A snarl of hatred and anger the likes of which he had not felt in years came forth and he grabbed wife by the wrist and pushed her backwards behind his body angling himself in front of her his sword half out of it’s scabbard. Agron moved withing seconds his hand on Duro’s shoulder though weather it was in encouragement or in remonstration Duro did not know nor did he care to know. Several other people made moves towards the man as well who seemed more amused rather than intimidated by show of force.

“Apologies. I did not know woman was claimed. I will find other come” he barked at his men and they departed leaving Duro seething.

“Fucking nerve” Gannicus muttered looking deeply unimpressed. “Must we use them?”

Spartacus looked deeply distrustful. “If we can get access to ships upon port we can get grain through rebellion and other supplies into the city and away from Crassus, he only wants gold.”

His eyes briefly met Duro’s with apology held in them. Duro inclined his head his jaw working furiously. Agron touched his shoulder. “Nasir can take over duties for Diona and I can ensure girls are looked after. Come to celebration tonight for cup of wine once head has been cleared. It would do no good to start a disagreement now when pirates are needed.” He scowled as if he very much disagreed with what he was saying but Agron was Spartacus’s man through and through and Duro knew that it would take an insult to Agron of grave significance for him to start fight against instructions. Duro wondered how he would feel if someone made clear intention towards Nasir but he was still too furious to care. Diona’s hand was still wrapped around his wrist so tight she was bruising but the tremor that had gone through her had disappeared and she was once again calm and quiet. The look of unspeakable horrors was gone. Naevia was standing by friend though at Crixus’s touch she too moved away and as the rebels dispersed Duro took wife’s hand and pushed through throngs of rebels and Roman’s chained alike until he reached their house where he shut and locked door and then promptly threw a table over in rage.

“That fucking shit!” he snarled kicking several broken pieces of wood again and thinking dearly of how he would like to be Heracleo’s head. “He dares to put hands upon you. I made promise to you and to myself no man would ever do that again and Jupiter himself would fucking whimper if he tried and that piece of shit thinks he can take my wife!” He roared again.

Diona however took a different approach to the one that Duro was expecting. He expected tears and soft whimpers. He half expected to be banished from sight for failure to protect her from that man reaching out and touching her hair and he was half prepared to fall to knees and remonstrate at her feet but to his eternal bafflement Diona was smiling.

“What?” he asked completely nonplussed.

“You would battle your Gods and mine for me?”

“Yes” Duro said still confused over why she was smiling. “I would kill a thousand times over if it meant I got to keep you in my arms”

Diona blushed again. “You do have a way with words Duro do you not” she said somewhat sarcastically.

“You are not trembling in fear or anger?”

“Why? I have survived worse, in fact I am more angry with self for allowing such reaction to be seen by everyone. Naevia would have just took his hand off. I was taken by surprise but I recovered. He did commit action that reminded me of…just before he…” she shook her head.

“I am no longer helpless. And I will no longer be afraid of men such as him. Let him try to touch me again and I will remove cock from between legs and bring it home to a true man”

Duro stared at her. For all of the reactions he had been expecting this one was the last of them. Also he could not help but find image incredibly appealing though that probably said more about him than Diona.

Diona came closer and Duro took her in arms feeling her heartbeat against his armour and the smell of the rosewater in her hair.

“Strike pirate from mind. I will have you put your mind and hands to better use. He and his words mean nothing and should mean nothing to the man who is my whole world”

Duro smiled and pressed his head to hers. Diona grinned and then his hands found her arse and he lifted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist and their kissing became more heated and frantic as they found the bed and divested themselves of their clothes. Duro hoisted her legs higher but before he could prepare to enter she pushed him to one side so she could climb on top of him her tongue moulding with his as his hands scrambled to find new purchase. Her hand slid downwards to find his cock and Duro’s hissed into the kiss with pleasure as she ran her fingers up and down his length twisting around them, his climax when it came was easy.

“You burn to blind fucking Gods” he said hands in his wife’s hair. “Let me pay homage to the goddess herself”

Diona laughed, the sound reverberating somewhere around his hipbone (and how had she gotten there?) “You are always one for flattery I do not always deserve” she said softy her eyes watching him with desire and something else warring within them.

“I speak fucking truth” Duro said pushing himself up on elbows so he could stare down at her. His cock which had been lying dormant for a time gave a twitch of interest. Diona smiled a smile so full of promise Duro groaned. His groan only intensified when she took him into her mouth and he dropped his head down onto pillows. Shit she was going to kill him. Two orgasms she was going to get out of him now and he was going to burn up with his release and his last moments would be full of her, her smell, her taste, her touch and the emotions she stirred within him.

Duro’s last really coherent thought before he climaxed again into her mouth watching from half-lidded eyes as she swallowed him down with ease, was that it was such a wonderful way to fucking go.

Diona sat up her hair over her breasts and watched him with smug grin.

“You are tired? Or you have it within you to make me forget all other men?”

Oh fuck.

Well he always did like to rise to the challenge.

He yanked Diona up by her arms so that her back was on the furs and he was over her. He hoisted her legs back up and entered swiftly. Diona’s smug smile turned to moans of her own her hair spread out beneath her and her neck bared so that he could bend down and take the skin in his teeth biting until he knew that would be leaving mark vivid and purple and tender to touch.

“Mine” he snarled feeling almost feral against her skin. “Mine…My woman, my wife, my Diona”

Diona’s hand found his hair and she pulled at the roots sharply in the way that he liked it and Duro came again sharply, Diona’s moans of joy the only music he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

They collapsed back onto the furs again and Duro was not sure weather or not he could move again. He made to slip out of her but Diona grabbed his shoulders and stopped him.

“I want to feel you” she said simply. “I never want to imagine a life outside of your touch”

Duro gazed at her feeling sleep pull at his body. “I adore you” he said simply. “I do not know how I lived a life without you”

Diona kissed him and they stayed there like that for a while, the outside world forgotten until slumber finally claimed them.

They were awoken several hours later by the sound of music and laughter.

“We should go and see children” Diona said wincing slightly as she got up. “And I have been remiss in my duties to check on orphaned children. I will run bath first and see you at celebrations?”

“Yes” Duro said feeling the tender ache of the last few hours hit his muscles. “I have much to see Agron about”

They bathed practically and then dressed and were out the door heading towards main villa to share wine with friends. Diona managed to share words with each of the children, pry apart Malia and Luc who were practically intertwined amongst the ivy to remind them that tomorrow she would be back in charge of food supplies, she ensured that Johan a tall German boy of fifteen who was chatting with another orphan from mines of the same age Margarette that they should all drink watered wine and act their age accordingly and then she ensured both of her own children had, had good day and good food (and well watered wine).

“You strumpet” came voice from behind her as she was watching Gannicus and his friend laugh. It was Naevia who was beaming holding out two cups, Diona took one and grinned.

“What do you mean?”

“The mark upon your neck and the way you look as if you have climbed out of bed”

“Bitch” Diona said beaming. On further reflection she noticed Naevia looked tired.

“Are you well dearest friend?”

Naevia paused. “I had moment like you today” she said finally. “There was man, kind and nice, Roman with pregnant wife and we made him fight for bread, to scrabble around for food like we had done, he moved for either weapon or bread I am still not sure but I responded and now he has lost three fingers. And…and when Crixus asked me why I had turned upon this path I told him that the nice ones were always the more frightening.” She paused looking at Diona.

“You know”

Diona did know. She knew that the nice ones were always the ones that would hurt them more and smile under guise of kindness. Batiatus had been kind once as had Lucretia and she had still ended up being raped for entertainment or because as she could remember with clarity, _‘her cunt is considerably tighter’. _She could still remember the coldness of the gold ring pressing within her. She took gulp of wine and felt the burn and tried to displace memories.

“I want them all dead” Naevia said finally her voice coated with venom. Diona stared at her but did not voice any opinion. She did not want to cause row with dearest friend besides it was she was sure just the emotion of the day. They had both been forced to live through unspeakable torment and to relive it today. On the morrow she would be sure that Naevia would be back to her usual self.

There was a shout and they turned to see Agron beating another pirate. Nasir came to them looking furious and taking Naevia’s cup of wine and downing it in one.

“We are to fight with the pirates later this evening if they fall through on their promises and Agron chooses now to take offense at the fact that one simply wishes to share drink”

“Men” Diona said simply. “Take him back to your quarters Nasir and do what I have just done, gain three climaxes out of him”

Nasir choked on his wine, Naevia practically combusted with laughter and soon Diona was laughing too.

“You too are destined for the shores of hell” Nasir said shaking his head though he was smiling. “I should go to see Agron” he said finally seeing Spartacus was taking Agron to task. Duro was stood next to him and Diona noticed he had blood on his knuckles. She resisted urge to roll her eyes. The girls were with friends, Diona noticed with her sharp eyes some freckled boy next to Freyja and Cecelija who was watching with wide eyes.

“I should go” Nasir said with an eyeroll heavenwards. “Agron will destroy villa if I let him”

“Yes” Naevia in muttered to Diona. “And Nasir wishes for uninterrupted time with his man’s cock. As do I”

She kissed Diona on the cheek, winked and then disappeared into crowd. Diona took a sip of wine and then before she could blink Duro was back by her side.

“Spartacus has ensured some kind of deal with those shits and we are to go tonight. Take the orphans and the girls and lock the doors. I do not want Freyja fighting tonight or even watching guard”

“You are worried” Diona observed reaching for his hand. Duro shook his head.

“Not worried but I would prefer you and girls away from this one”

Diona nodded. Duro folded lip between teeth and then pulled them to empty bench where Crixus and Naeiva had once been riding upon.

“I would ask you to do me one thing Diona. I know that I said I would never ask you to do this again but I believe it would be the best for your safety and for the girls and for the orphaned girls. I believe with the pirates it would be best if you carried weapon. Two of the sons of whores have made advances against the woman I love more than my own life and the man I consider brother. I do not want to be caught unawares again”

A part of Diona wanted to scream no. She had never felt comfortable with weapon. She had never wanted to hold sword, but here she was being asked to do so again.

Duro cupped her chin in his hand. “Diona I beg of you. I know you do not want to but I wish nothing more than your safety and the safety of the female children you look after. Please”

She could see the sense behind the reasoning and for that and to ease the worry of the man she loved she nodded. After all she had carried sword during time within temple. She could do it again.

“I will need weapons for some of the children. And they will need training” she said finally. Duro nodded relief bleeding into his face. He kissed her. “And the heartbeat our allegiance is over with the pirates I do not want to carry sword”

“I love you” he said pulling back. “I adore you. You are my heart and my soul. Thank you” he said pulling her back so she was leaning against the hard muscles of his chest. Diona closed her eyes listening to the sounds of the merriment before an utterly wicked thought sprang to mind, courtesy no doubt of Naevia the devious bitch.

“I expect you on your knees worshiping me for weeks”

Duro laughed loudly before pressing kiss to her neck right over the mark he had given her earlier.

“Woman I will gladly worship at the alter of your cunt until my jaw aches” he growls.

Diona arched backwards desire flooding through her. Duro’s arm wrapped around her chest pulling her arse flush against him.

“Minx” he said finally.

“You still have ability to get hard after today?” Diona asked coyly. Duro let out bark of laughter. “Woman if I have you in my bed I could get hard at the age of eighty”

Diona smiled though it was a touch wistfully. The thought of living until the age of eighty as a free woman was something she had never even dreamed off even after months of freedom. She almost felt like succumbing to tears when she thought about it.

She tried not to think about it until Duro detached herself from him and followed at Spartacus’s nod. Diona took a moment to collect herself and then made sure that her tasks were completed.

She forgot however.

She forgot about Freyja.

Spartacus stopped her as she directing children into houses.

“Diona” he said looking incredibly ill at ease. “I would as boon of you”

Diona sighed. She was tired and if truth be told she was expecting this though she was tired and had drank far too much and she was desperate to put her daughters to bed and have a hot bath, a glass of wine and some time to herself.

“Oh?”

“I would have archers upon wall—and—”

“Freyja, Henri, Johan and I’m guessing two other orphans?”

Spartacus to his credit looked uncomfortable and Diona felt her heart break for him. The man would have made a wonderful father if the Romans had not stripped that away from him.

“We are yours too command Uncle Spartacus”

Freyja again.

Diona raised eyebrow.

“Nasir will keep guard over them all. It will be lookout duty only. I have instructed rebels to not open gate. If there is a betrayal on behalf of pirates they will fall to deserved fate”

Spartacus’s face creased again with that same warring emotion that she had never seen before and Diona had to look away choosing with the crook of her fingers too boys both of the ages of fourteen Illya a blonde from the land of the Russians and Samuel from the land of the Dutch to assist. She dropped kiss on Freyja’s head and saw her to Spartacus’s side. She did not think of what Duro would make of this. She did not want to think. The children disappeared within the dark.

She turned back to her house.

The peace did not last for long.

Duro had reacted within instinct of cry that Roman’s were upon them, the familiar feel of battle once again upon him. Agron was next to him and battle against all odds to keep the legions from the gates of the city. Duro could only hope that Nasir and others would keep the gates shut, it would be a bloodbath if not.

There was something odd about this attack. As Duro flipped over one of the soldiers and thrust sword into the belly of another he realised that the leader stood fighting at the edge was little more than a boy. Surely he should not be commanding great numbers such as these on his own?

And then it happened.

He was half aware of that shit throwing something in the air but before the he could turn around and stuck sword within pirate something hit the sky with the speed of a spear and hit the Romans.

If Duro had not seen the great balls of fire split open the sky then he would have thought that the end had finally come. That the Gods of his home had opened up the gate and ended the world in fire. Thankfully he had Agron who upon staring in wonder as the ships fired fire balls at the Roman’s punched him hard on the arm.

They were moving backwards.

Covered in blood and more confused than elated at the Roman retreat Duro followed wishing for nothing more than the privacy of his own villa, his own bed and his wife.

And that was not what he got.

Diona had ensured her tasks for the day were done and was just about to run hot bath for both Freyja and Duro (the former of whom would make a mess unless Diona scrubbed firmly and threatened with a good delousing.) Duro would stay in their for hours if she left him but she could feel the exhaustion and the more importantly the wine taking hold.

There was a rap on the door. Gripping knife and stepping away from Cecelija who was slumbering she opened door. It was Naevia. She was covered in blood.

“Naevia?”

“The Roman…the one Gannicus mistakenly called friend. I killed him. Clutch of Roman prisoners have disappeared and I thought he was responsible” she said all of this in a monotone and even though she knew better Diona ushered Naevia in sat her a chair and poured her a cup of good wine.

Naevia gulped down the wine and stared into space. She flinched when Diona came back with wet cloth and she signed sitting down opposite dearest friend.

“Was he guilty?”

“I do not know. I did not care. He is dead and that is one less Roman to hurt me in the world”

Diona stared at her trying to find words and failing. Suddenly the warmth of the fire, the room had grown cold and she wanted to go to sleep and dream this day into the afterlife.

“You will feel different come dawn”

“No I will not. You see the world in such a different light Diona. You have a husband and children and you are clearly not haunted in the same way”

Diona felt her temper rise but she had a sleeping child next door to consider and Naevia had just killed a man. There would be nothing to gain from wringing her neck and telling her that sometimes Diona woke up and wondered if today was the day the dream was going to end and she would be back in mines.

Instead she took a breath and was about to say something when there was another knock on the door.

“Father is back. They have brought back bodies”

Diona and Naevia hastened out the door.

“So we are to trust the pirates?” Diona said that night as they finally retreated to bed. Duro was already under the furs and Diona had gone to tuck Freyja into bed. Exhaustion had hit her hard and she had been half asleep in the bath. Duro felt much the same way.

“It appears so” Duro said as she came into view having double checked the lock upon door. “I do not like it but Spartacus has given them instruction to dock and therefore we should be vigilant”

Diona nodded running a comb through her hair wincing at the tangles.

“I should just remove this whole thing and keep it at a shorter length” she said finally.

“Do not even joke about such thoughts” Duro said cracking an eye open. “Come to bed”

Diona took off the white lace wrap she usually wore to bed and crawled under the furs naked. Tonight she wanted the feel of her husband their bodies pressed together in a hard line and she wanted to bury under the very skin of him and not think of the dead look in Naevia’s eyes or her way of disgust when she talked about Roman’s, or the phantom eyes that used to look at her as if she was object and not real woman.

Duro wrapped both his arms around her and pressed her close blowing out the candle and sending the room into darkness. Diona shivered and knew it had nothing to do with the cold seeping into the room. Winter would soon be upon them.

“Banish thoughts angel” Duro said into darkness sleepily. “I am here, you will never look for me and find me waiting…I will never let anyone touch you again”

Diona smiled and made move to reply but he was already off in slumber and she found that she could burrow down into the heat and when slumber did eventually call her to the shores, it was perfectly dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I will endeavour to update sooner rather than later with the next chapter, also I wish anyone and everyone reading this the best health and happiness they can have under present circumstances. 
> 
> Feddback as always is adored.


	21. Through Many Dangers, Toils And Snares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new rebel enters the city as divisions between Spartacus and Crixus come to a head. 
> 
> Naevia and Diona are still estranged over their past as a new slave also makes her appearance in the lives of the rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, I thought this was going to be a short one and it turned out to be over 4000 words so...anyway enjoy. 
> 
> For the first time I went into the headspace of Sibyl which I rather enjoyed so if you ship her and Gannicus there is hope...
> 
> As usual my usual disclaimers-I do not own Spartacus, I do not own any characters and as per usual my spelling/grammar/tone of language can all be improved-any issues I apologise. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS in this chapter for a discussion about rape.

He had left Diona in bed. She had been slow to rise this morning and with her hair spread out contrasting stunningly with the white silk of the pillows. He had taken Freyja and Cecelija with him, Cecelija had been more or less content with staying with another girl by the name of Annalise and while one had been drawing the other had been writing. Freyja had scampered off to friends she had known one of whom had been that boy Henri. Duro had snarled at the boy but he felt that perhaps he had not seen him. It certainly seemed as such. Either that or stupidity was a thing inherited throughout the whole of Gualia.

He went in search of Agron who was attempting to man gate. Word had clearly spread that they had taken city and hundreds upon hundreds had flocked to seek shelter eager to embrace freedom. Diona would have thought it both encouraging and something that should be celebrated. Duro took a more measured approach to such events as he knew brother did. He thought that more mouths to feed and more people to see to shelter would make city over populated. Already they were running low upon grain and wine could only ensure people’s merriment for so long.

Already many had passed that were unknown. The crowds were gathering and the gate was only open for short sporadic times within the day to avoid Roman soldiers. If a man or woman or child could pass through gates they had to show brand to say that they were slave and therefore no friend to the Republic. Even Duro could apricate the last thing they needed at this given moment was a Roman spy. The fucking pirates had been bad enough and they stayed mostly to their ships unless they wanted to gain access to brothels that weather there were slaves running the city or Roman men remained open for business.

He found Agron with scowl upon face.

“Too many are coming through” he said scowling. “I cannot be sure how many have passed without showing brand. Nasir is all for friending them and I suspect Gannicus and Saxa are looking for a bedfellow. As for Nemetes he is simply robbing them. He was not best pleased with Spartacus taking his wealth the previous night”

Duro nodded. Out of all of the rebels Nemetes was the one who he had, limited interaction and for that he was glad. He knew the warrior had no interest in anything other than fucking and fighting and suspected that had it not been for the opportunities presented within rebellion he would have left long ago. He also did not forget barred comments he had made at Vesuvius about Duro’s children and their lack of worth.

“Should we not close gate?”

Agron rolled eyes to the heavens. “Spartacus will not stop those fleeing their masters from accessing rebellion. And the numbers will help against inevitable battle. I do not know how long until we take on Marcus Crassus. The man does not seem to want to face us as many others did.”

Duro had other things to concern himself with rather than the lack of arrogance of Marcus Crassus.

“There are Roman’s missing amongst us?”

“Yes” Agron said jaw tight. “Spartacus will give more instruction but he has given that red headed woman Laeta freedom to pass food around enslaved woman so that is another factor we have to worry about”

Duro was just about to comment when a woman came forwards claiming to have information about Roman encampment. Agron went to find Spartacus and Duro followed more out of curiosity than out of necessity. He was half listening and half wondering weather or not he should go back and check upon wife when he heard the cry that Romans had entered city.

At once he turned sword in hand but it was chaos. Slaves of all description were throwing themselves forwards into city desperate to secure safety and therefore he found himself buffeted by bodies. By the time he got to the gate he found that Spartacus had killed most of the Romans that had entered and was watching with apprising eyes a man with shaggy blonde hair stab continuously his enemy with a fervour that suggested hatred of the very man. Duro cocked head to side watching—there was something here that he was not sure he liked but he could not point finger at it.

The man after several minutes of questioning identified himself as Lisiscus and claimed that he had cut brand off. Duro stared—granted he had never gained brand so he did not wonder how much of this story was true. Thousands of slaves they had liberated from mines had been unbranded. But there was still something about this one that made his teeth sit on edge. He certainly would not be encouraging relations with this slave and the women in his family.

Spartacus made motion so that high ranking generals should meet within villa. Duro at best held the rank of Captain alongside Naeiva, Lugo and his wife and he therefore did not gain automatic access to the _‘Great Man Upon The Hill’_ as he was known. However he was surprised and also grateful to see Spartacus catch his eye and nod that he was too follow.

He followed but then soon wished he had not. Relations between Agron and Crixus had softened somewhat as summer had turned to autumn and soon to winter but his brother was still the same man he had always been and Crixus too claimed the same moniker. There was too much between them to allow their desire to see Roman’s from this earth stand strong against their convictions that the other were born from shit. Such (Duro suspected) was the view of many from Lands East of the Rhine and Gualia (and vice versa).

Conversation however turned to the fact that many were entering city without being checked. Gannicus added that many might have alternative motive and Duro nodded. Had he had choice in the matter he would have said gate should remain closed beyond chosen hours it was open. Watching the gate was a guard duty given to young rebels and they would respond if they thought that men and women desperate for freedom were being attacked.

Spartacus sighed. Duro looked at him and wondered briefly how he was coping. Duro had Diona, Agron had Nasir and Crixus had Naevia. He supposed in some way Gannicus had Saxa and therefore had someone. Spartacus was alone and Duro could understand why. Even the thought of losing Diona was unbearable. Spartacus was living through a rebellion without the woman he loved…because of the woman he loved.

Duro loved the man for freedom and for saving Agron, he respected the man for so much more.

Spartacus ran hand over face before issuing orders. Crixus and Gannicus were to gain opinion of new rebels too see if any were pretending to be other than what appeared. Diona was too be dispatched to ensure that Roman slaves were fed. Spartacus caught expression upon his face when this was broached and elaborated.

“I meant Diona brother as her kindness would see her and Leata reach common goal. But I know you are not to be parted from wife and many rebels would be against the removal of food for such a purpose, therefore I ask you go as well”

Duro nodded. He was not going to let Diona go around giving food to Romans without him acting as fucking shadow. He caught Agron’s eye and knew that the threat against Spartacus was as such that his brother would be to his friend as fucking shadow.

He went in search of Malia, a rebel of sixteen years or so who had been rescued from mines and asked her to wake Diona up. He would go in search of grain though he did not know what he would find. Malia her red hair half tied in knot and half down her back nodded. Duro was pleased to see she was carrying a sturdy curved knife that he suspected could do much damage to unsuspecting man.

He might not share the same passion for the smaller rebels or the girls who chose not to fight but Duro was his father's son and his father had always ensured that women in their tribe got to their home safely and considered it a smirch on his honour as man if something happened. He swallowed. Thinking of his father gone from this life before shackles of bondage reached both his sons was an ache that still hurt. He shook head in attempt to rid thoughts and went in search of task to set mind to completion. 

When Diona woke up it was to find Malia sitting by the side of the bed. The girl was polishing her curved sword with a bit of silk and her red hair a darker shade than that Roman woman Spartacus had let out of chains was half up half down. She was staring at the silver metal with a rather pensive expression but when Diona pushed herself up onto her elbows she turned and smiled and looked more like a girl of substance than girl of shadow she had been seconds before.

“Apologies I overslept” she said reaching for the comb and attempting to tame hair into something respectable.

“No apologies needed. Duro sent me to offer help. Spartacus has requested we begin feeding the Roman’s who remain chained within city walls. Duro has gone to find grain but he requests that we keep eye on Laeta for there are fears she cannot be trusted”

Diona nodded going to the close-stool and relieving herself, she still ached from Duro’s lovemaking the night before. The man was like weapon when he wanted to be. The bruise on her neck and upon the soft inner skin of her thigh was as such that she was sure that Malia had seen though the girl said nothing except to hug her shawl around her shoulders.

“Is all well?”

“Diona…may I ask question? I apologise if I bring forth unpleasant memories but…I really do not know where to turn”

Diona smiled. “Of course Malia. What ails you?”

“Luc and I have been growing close, we met within mines but we did not see much of the other beyond friendly smile and desire to find his brother. Now we are close and I confess to losing heart to him and him to me but we have not explored each other beyond kissing and touching cock and cunt, however he has asked for my hand in marriage. I know that if I accept then we will become lovers and I know that at some point children will follow. My master…the guards in the mines…you know—” here her voice broke off and Diona knew she was talking about the fact that as a pretty young girl within mines and confined to the chains of slavery she had been raped more than once.

“You know…I am not sure I am ready for that”

Diona paused allowing Malia a chance to collect herself as she pondered upon answer. The thing with taking care of orphaned children and there were now nearly thirty of them was that there was a good chance you would stand in as mother. She swallowed finally thinking that she would go with honesty as any mother would do with her daughter—certainly as she would do with one of hers.

“I think you should explain to Luc you fears. If he loves you as much as he claims he do he will understand and wait until you are ready for the next moment in your relationship. If he does not then it is a good thing. You deserve more than a man who wants you for his own ends. But if it makes you feel any better Malia—I think his feelings for you are true. The boy lights up whenever you walk within room and a man who looks at a woman like that understands more than appears.”

Malia nodded and then she reached out and Diona folded her within arms. It was hard to believe that Malia had been the same age as she had been when she and Naevia had gossiped about fucking gladiators, falling in love and weather Gannicus was really as big as a horse. The thought made her think onwards of Melitta and her heart ached for the advice of dearest friend who had been mother to her in the same way she was now being mother to Malia.

They hugged for small period of time and then they broke apart and as they had been instructed went to find Leata to ensure that the remaining Romans had been fed and watered.

Celebrations continued throughout the night as wine flowed freely. Diona caught sight of Malia taking Luc into dark corner and part of her was both curious and another concerned. She leaned against cool stone pillar and listened as Malia explained that she had no problem with an engagement but could they perhaps take it one day at a time, Diona caught the expression upon Luc’s face and thought perhaps that Malia could have asked him to bring him the Roman Emperor’s head before they got married and he would do that. She smiled and walked off. Tonight she wanted nothing more than her children in their beds and her husbands in hers.

She caught Naevia standing by the table where wine was her dark gaze unfocused and perhaps if she was being honest with self a bit more twisted than Diona had ever seen it. She moved to go and speak to dearest friend and then stopped herself. Naevia had made no attempt to apologise for comments made that Diona had gotten being given an easier path. Diona could remember the pain of lying their on a cold slab with her legs forced apart, her arse being split in two, she could remember being spat at and scratched and things being placed within her that had no business being there. She remembered being bent over and forced apart and remembered the cramp she got in foot because she was too terrified to move muscles. She remembered being told to get to bath and scrub blood drying on legs and she remembered giving birth squatting in the mud like an animal biting on her arm so that guards did not overhear cries.

She thought that Naevia’s comments were deeply unfair. Diona might not have been put to cart and passed around villa like fucking animal but she too had suffered her fair share of trauma and she did not care if Naevia had just killed Crassus single handily the comment had stung.

She turned away and moved towards house but she saw to her great irritation someone sat there knees resting beneath them. She took stock in her head. She did not think any orphan would wait for her, many of them were at celebrations or tucked into their bed in the two houses they shared watched by this night by Annalise a fifteen year old girl with shoulder length brown hair who had ran from slave house and escaped by sheer force of will and who seemed to like nothing more but to scribe away until her fingers were stained with ink and by Petyr a shy boy of sixteen who watched with brown eyes but said very little instead keeping company with a small cat he had found and decided he wanted for his own.

Diona gripped knife but she thought if anyone wanted to harm her or her children they would not be waiting outside sat patiently upon floor. As she crept closer she saw that it was a woman though she looked barely older than Malia. Her dark hair was in a braid and she was wearing a blue dress that was ripped in a way that more leg than Diona and she knew she showed more now in her red dress than she ever did as slave. Her head was resting on her knees but she jerked upright when she saw Diona approach and smoothed down dress in a way that was both endearing and a stark reminder that she had probably been ingrained in such behaviour since birth. Diona had grown up in slavery, she knew the signs well.

“May I help you?” she asked in an attempt to remain polite.

“Greetings, my name is Sibyl, you are Diona?”

“I am”

“Gannicus asked me to give you these keys, he gained copy from Spartacus and for Romans chained within city walls. He said you might need them as he for one does not trust Laeta with the only copy. He also instructed me to speak to you about help? I can be put to good use helping Roman’s or children in any way.”

Diona stared at her. For the briefest second she thought that woman reminded her of baby rabbit, all gangly legs and endearing eyes within face. For the briefest second following that judgement she suddenly wondered if this girl was the future of her eldest daughter because there was something about her endearing nature that reminded Diona of Freyja and she could not think why.

“Gratitude” she said finally. “I could use much assistance, come into the house and we can talk”

The girl gathered shawl around her shoulders. Diona noticed she was clutching carved wooden statue between her fingers that were smeared with dirt and dust and she saw it was a relic of one of the Gods. She resisted the urge to roll eyes heavenwards. Long ago she had given up her believe in such things.

She let herself into house, both of her girls choosing to sleep rather than enjoy celebrations. Training had resumed and Freyja was learning new tricks with bow that made her arms ache so much that there were times that she struggled to lift them. Diona make inward note to speak to Duro about this upon the morrow and gain his opinion. Cecelija was simply curled between the blankets. Diona went to save silken sheets from being stained with charcoal and directed Sibyl to sit and pour herself a cup of wine.

She came back to find that girl had slipped shoes off and was bathing feet in cool atrium pool. There was something about this girl that Diona liked, she would offer her use of bath before she left in the morning. Somehow she did not think Sibyl was getting access to one. She wondered what possessed Gannicus to seek this little thing out but then again—Gannicus despite intent had always had a soft spot for the innocent. Melitta, Freyja, this one. She sighed and though she wished for Duro’s warm presence in her bed and the grateful tug of slumber she knew she had work to do.

It was the banging that forced Sibyl from slumber. Night had passed on as she and Diona had conversed. They had divided up remaining food and Sibyl feeling empowered by the other woman’s easy approach had breached subject that perhaps it would be easier for Roman’s to be chained within the shelter of one villa. Certainly she knew from experience it would be easier on rebels assigned to ensure that food was spread around equally.

She carefully did not think of Laeta or try to mention events that must surely be in motion. Despite personal misgivings about betrayal she had done her duty to the man who had saved her and the great leader who had saved them all from bondage. Laeta might be a kind mistress and Sibyl might have once dreamt herself a slave in that house but she had tasted freedom now and found that she was drunk on it.

She knew she could never go back.

Diona had offered her shelter in her house and use of the bath. Sibyl had never had a whole bath to self and she marvelled at the luxury of sinking into hot water and scrubbing the mud from under her fingernails and scenting rose water in her hair. She was convinced her skin was cleaner shining brightly in the dark and her hair was lighter. She rubbed it dry with the silk Diona offered, took a small bite of the chicken and bread dinner and curled up the long chair that her Dominus used to recline upon wrapped herself in blanket and fell to slumber. It had been wonderful allowing these luxuries. She did not have the security of a house all to self.

Diona had been kinder than any she had seen before offering her food and shelter for her own protection. Tomorrow Sibyl would take up residence in one of the houses containing the orphans to ensure the younger ones had some stability. It was something to do—a way of contributing to the rebellion—Sibyl was still young in years but she was sure that she was not a fighter certainly not in the way Saxa was when she curled around Gannicus—she abruptly ended those thoughts. It would do no good she told self sternly as she fell to sleep.

It felt like she had gained only several minutes of it when the door banged open. Sibyl slid from place landing on her feet and scrambling to tie her sandals around her ankles. She had scrambled upwards and reached for small statue and by the time she had left her place she had come across the two little girls both still sleepy and the man she knew by sight was Diona’s husband.

“Who the fuck is this?” he asked looking at her. Sibyl noticed that he was coated in blood.

“Sibyl, she is helping me with orphaned but I thought streets unsafe so I offered her shelter. Duro what is happening?”

“Crixus has gone fucking mad. He, Naevia and some fucking rebel from skirmish this morning are running throughout the streets killing any Roman they come across, women or children. Malia has managed to free some children and hidden herself in house with orphans. Spartacus has been informed and I have to go back out I just need you to stay here. All of you” he added eyeing the eldest girl but at that moment there was a scream and another loud banging this time close to the shuttered windows and the girl shrank backwards. Sibyl dithered awkwardly.

“Perhaps we should move further into house so that we are hidden?” she asked. She meant it to the man who seemed to commanding his home and he nodded. Both girls followed her and Sibyl found herself sat back in the room where the bath was pressed up against wall two children on either side of her.

Diona came a second later the door closed and barricaded her expression detached and closed off.

“Whose that?” the eldest girl asked pointing at Sibyl’s icon and Sibyl who had no problem with discussing her Gods launched into tale of the meaning behind statue and the story of the woman she worshiped which kept everyone occupied.

The fact about freedom was that Diona had counted on never having to cower again. And yet she had spent the night until dawn had crested through the small open space reflecting on the bath water, cowering in a home that had not been hers with her two children and a woman not much older than she was while her husband tried to stop a mob from slaughtering all in sight.

Diona knew that while Duro held no love for the Roman’s killing women and children was not something he could commit to easily. She knew that because she knew him and therefore she was not worried about him joining in murder but rather what would happen when he caught up with Crixus.

She would not think of Naeiva.

She could not think of Naevia.

She was not sure if actions and words taken by Naevia tonight or nights previously would ever see them upon correct path again. The friends that they had been, the young girls in the Ludus, the battle hardened women within the Mines and the happy lovers they had been within temple and valley had disappeared and Diona did not know how to get them back when their priorities had been clearly different.

The girls had fallen asleep eventually when noise had quietened down. Malia had knocked upon door ten minutes later and Diona had heard her through the wood speaking within hushed tones that the younger orphans were all safe under her care and Luc and the older ones under the care of Johann, Petyr and Annalise. It was not a bad result and Diona thanked her and told her to get behind a wooden door and stay there until Diona knocked and to instructs others to do the same. They all had food and water and Diona had grown up within Ludus. She knew that after a fight when a man’s blood was up he would take whatever he wanted regardless of invitation. Malia had disappeared and Diona and Sibyl had put the girls to bed before Sibyl curled back on her own bed and fell to slumber. Diona went back to her own bed and lay their fully dressed but she could not sleep. She laid awake clutching knife beneath furs and waiting.

She did not have to wait long.

Duro came back slipping into house and bolting door tightly before he moved like silent ghost to bath.

He came out ten moments later dripping wet devoid of cloth and armour. He crawled beneath the sheets and Diona removed her own clothes and slipped next to him.

“It was shit” he said finally into the silence. “I have never seen anything like this…well I have…when Roman’s entered village and took what they wanted. The streets are paved with blood and the breach between Crixus and Spartacus seems beyond repair.”

Diona swallowed. There was so much she wanted to say but she didn’t think she could. Nor did she want to ruin this moment between them. The very peace they had depended on for so long was shattering and there were things that had taken place that night that she knew were not easy to come back from.

“We shall stay away from them tomorrow” Duro said into the silence. “I know that Naeiva is your friend but I cannot stand the sight of the two of them right now. I am bound to Spartacus and I love him as I love Agron but I am sick to my very soul tonight Diona”

Diona turned on her side and ran her knuckles down his cheek in silent support. She was glad that the candlelight had been extinguished and he could not see her face. She was not sure what her expression was but she knew it would only lead to more questions that she was not ready to supply answers. Duro took her hand and kissed the knuckles his stubble brushing against her hand and sending a shiver down her spine.

He turned so that he was on top of her but Diona knew that he did not want love making tonight and neither did she. She hugged him close and ran a hand through his hair feeling her strong husband shudder with warring emotions. Duro pressed kiss to her neck and she sighed feeling sleep come to her despite all odds. She was safe here, she was safe with Duro, she was safe and happy and loved.

It was not a distraction but it was a comfort and she snatched it with greedy hands. Tomorrow everything would be better.

Even though slumber claimed her she knew that the night seemed to drag onwards and that their happiness in this house with each other and their children and with their luxuries was slowly coming towards inevitable conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again wishing you all health and happiness wherever you are. 
> 
> I will endeavour to update soon. 
> 
> As always your feedback is adored.


	22. There Are No Angels Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As events rapidly escalate in response to violent attacks, Duro and Diona attempt to survive with their children as winter is firmly upon the rebels. 
> 
> Naevia attempts to make amends and Nasir and Diona share a moment. 
> 
> RATED M IN THIS CHAPTER FOR SMUT. 
> 
> This entire chapter is in Diona's Point of View.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter, I hope you enjoy this chapter as we slowly go towards the end of this story. 
> 
> My note this week is gonna be short and sweet, as anything I have said about any characters particularly Naevia I think I have addressed. My usual disclaimers I always keep, the characters are not mine and the spelling, grammar and language are not always perfect...
> 
> There are trigger warnings in this chapter as always for Spartacus, as well as some triggers of rape and of course this chapter is RATED M. If you would rather avoid this then please avoid this chapter. 
> 
> And to all of you reading this I hope you are safe and well and continue to remain so.

Duro said nothing upon morning. He woke and had short conversation with someone (Diona though Agron but she could not be sure from their bed) and then he came back teeth gritted. He grabbed loin cloth wrapped it around self and then Diona heard the sound of her daughters awaken from slumber and a soft gentle tone that she knew came from Sibyl. 

Duro came back seconds later after locking door behind him. Diona raised one eyebrow as she laid back down amongst the pillows. 

“I have instructed Agron to make my apologies to Spartacus and have instructed Sibyl to take charge of feeding Roman’s. Freyja has gone to train and Cecelija to friends, I have firmly instructed them both not to go alone through the streets today. I think they will obey me”

Diona resisted urge to smile. It was pointless to tell her husband that his daughters had too much love and respect for him to disobey an order. And that they were smart enough to know when one was an order. 

She sat up cracking neck from side to side and feeling the muscles ache. 

“And what are we to do now you have given away my duties and apparently your own?” 

“I have informed Agron you are not well” Duro said his face perfectly straight. “And therefore I wish to tend to your every desire”

Diona stared at him utter surprise shock removing all teasing thoughts from her mind. 

“And Agron believed such bare faced lies?” she said finally. 

“Agron and Nasir are at odds, Spartacus and Crixus are at odds, everyone within rebellion seems to be at odds with Naevia as of late. And…Spartacus is to take to sea to see if he can gain grain from enemy. It is not news to be banded about but there is little we can do. Gannicus, Lugo and Saxa are training rebels, Naevia and Crixus are doing fuck knows what but I am glad to not be in their company and the girl and Malia are dealing with food for Roman shits. Agron does not care if either one of us are underfoot and besides…” here his expression darkened. “I do not want to see the ramifications of last night. Nasir and Saxa saw to it that the bodies were hidden come morning light otherwise I would not let girls out but I swear Diona I do not want to see it beyond wildest thoughts” 

Diona nodded. In truth she had not expected such a visceral reaction from him. Perhaps it showed because he elaborated. 

“I am a soldier, I am a killer. I accepted that at thirteen, but I did not punish innocents, yes I have killed Roman’s women and children in the taking of this city and in the taking of villa’s in between but I did not get enjoyment from it as I saw in the faces of many people would have called my brothers and sisters before last night. I will continue to do my duty to this rebellion until I am struck from this Earth or until Rome falls to dust beneath my feet but I am not in a mood to be civil to Crixus, Naevia and Nemetes this morn” 

Diona nodded again. She thought of having to face Naevia this morning and felt that phantom throb of pain that came with the knowledge that she and dearest friend were on separate paths and she could not see a way forwards that saw them on same one again. 

“I suppose a day within house with my husband in my bed is not a terrible way to shirk duties” she said with a teasing smirk. Duro grinned the shadows gone from his eyes before he slid down the bed with no complaint and lifted one of her legs so that it was resting over her shoulder. Diona felt herself grow wet just at the sight of him on his knees and that wicked smirk that she knew would bring her nothing but pleasure. 

“Does it not bother you that this is my preferred choice?” she asked at random. “Most men would like to…use their own preferred method” 

“Diona this is my preferred method—though only the Gods know what that fucking means. This gives you the greatest pleasure and that in turn pleases me. I know you do not like fingers inside you and besides, I could worship at the alter of your cunt until I lost feeling in my face” 

Diona laughed though she was sure that was not what he was looking for in his declaration. Duro raised an eyebrow and then bent his head and took her into his mouth his tongue flicking upwards until he found that little bundle of nerves that made her arch backwards. He carried on for some time until Diona was sure she was moaning louder than some wanton whore in the makeshift brothel four streets away from them. Duro today seemed to want to cause torment rather than pleasure because every time she seemed close to peeking with pleasure he would pull away or twist his tongue so that she was begging for more. 

When he pulled away for the third time Diona cracked open one eye and gazed down upon him. 

“What is this…a chance to make mind go?” 

Duro grinned at her. “Try revenge my dear wife for three climaxs not so long ago. I held fear that it would be the end of me. Now you get to understand why I was of such feeling” 

And he went back to nibbling away at her cunt and Diona tilted her head back and closed her eyes and allowed herself to be awash with the sensation and the ache and the need that built until Duro had from his mouth alone made her climax twice, he then entered her in one swift stroke. Diona opened her eyes. There was something about position that they were in that brought back memories of a man with a ring, her legs above a gladiator’s waist and how she was told she was the coin that had to be coated in dirt on one side and experience the cleanliness of Rome on the other. 

To banish thoughts she surged forwards wrapping her legs and her arms around her husband in attempt to bury herself under tissue and sinew and skin and when she climaxed again she was still clinging to him as the only man she could ever want or trust or love.

Duro lowered her down to the bed, to the silken sheets and to Earth and then proceeded to hold her tight, so tight that Diona could not imagine a life without him wrapped around her in such a way. She buried her face into his shoulder and again felt her very heart heave with such love she had dreamt of but never thought she would gain. 

Duro kissed her sleepily on the cheek. Diona knew that he understood. 

It was beyond perfect. 

And it was so fragile that Diona knew it could not last. The events of the previous night had shattered that. They could not hide away in the villa for years to come, the longest was winter and while it would be nice to have shelter of walls and the comfort of a door and a roof Diona had lived through many winters as slave and knew that, that was not always enough. For all she knew she could upon morrow lose these luxuries. 

“If we live through this” she said finally into the silence. “And we take Rome, I want a villa like this, large bed, hot bath and a canopy of silk above my head. And in the event that we do not take Rome I would like a house with a bed. I do not wish to sleep in tent upon field of battle for rest of my days. I want something more solid than that. And whatever dream I am given I want you in my bed for the rest of my time in this life and in the one that follows. 

Duro brushed back strands of her hair matted with the sweat from their lovemaking across her forehead and smiled a soft smile that made him look so much older than the years claimed him to be. There was something in that smile that informed Diona that her husband too knew that they would gain neither of those dreams, the simplistic one and the one all rebels hoped for. They had already gained much miracles in this life beyond what anyone could have dreamt off. The truth of the matter was that Diona should have died with other captured or punished slaves upon the opening of the arena and Duro should have lost his life upon turning against the Roman’s in the same villa his brother had been sent too. Twists of fate kept them alive and together but Diona was under no illusion about how long they would last before everything would unravel. The golden days of the temple were fading and she was beginning to understand that no matter how many enemies they cut down two more would always appear. Others like Crixus, Naevia and Agron might find that appealing but sometimes all she longed for was a hot meal, a decent house and her husband in her bed. 

She clamped down on these opinions, her husband was all for blood and battle, and besides she had learnt the hard way a time ago that it would do no good to dream and forget the living. To wish for all that was a fools paradise. 

“Are we leaving this house?” she asked finally once they had caught breath and she was propped up on elbow as Duro lay upon back hand dusting beneath her shoulder blades. 

“I do not know” he answered truthfully. “Spartacus has taken to sea and Crixus is determined to take the fight to the very gates of Rome himself. It is driving the rebellion in two between the ones desperate for a battle and the ones who want to share shelter. And now that Crassus knows we are encamped here it is hard to say. He behaves in a way I have not seen a Roman General behave. It is almost as if he respects us”

“And Agron?” Diona asked not for the first time adrift in this sea of politics that her husband understood from his place within the command. 

“Heart and soul for Spartacus as am I but I fear for how long. Agron has always believed in blood and battle, it was our trade, we do not know any other. When all of this over and if we are still with our lives I do wonder what we shall do with selves.” 

“And Gannicus?” 

Duro shrugged. “Who knows. He follows a different beat to us all. I do believe he holds love for Spartacus if not respect but sometimes I think he is punishing self by being here. Either way I doubt anything will tempt him off course once it is decided upon” 

Diona wanted to ask him if he had given thought to what would happen if Spartacus chose to take battle away from Rome but she found she could not answer. She did not want to know the answer either is she was being honest with self. Instead she wanted this little bubble of peace to last a bit longer and for that reason she gave herself over to growing desire. She had never felt this all consuming need to touch and to be touched and to give before. She understood so much more than she did when she was a girl and she had looked at the Gladiators with lust in her eyes. Gods she had been stupid then. All alone she had been ignorant of a currency purer than common lust…the pure gold that was love.

But she had one burning question that she wanted answer too. 

“What is it like? The sea? I do not know being born in slavery and whenever Lucritia would accompany her husband to slave ports she always took Melitta never me”

Duro paused and Diona realised inadvertently she might have asked a very personal question. 

“Apolog—” but Duro shook his head. 

“I do not remember much” he confessed. “For I had taken blows to head in battle. Agron remembers more though I would not advise you asking him. I remember when ship moved water would come down and the salt burned eyes and mouth. After a day or so you had to drink it even though it turned three slaves mad. Sometimes it was the only water we got”

Diona listened in horror. She had not thought it was this bad, Duro was the only one in this little makeshift family that had come from other lands, both she and her girls had been born in slavery, Naevia the same even Melitta and Mira. She had not heard the story. Gannicus and Crixus shared to her knowledge no discussion about their pasts, Nasir offered that he had only had a brother but no longer and Agron scowled whenever it was mentioned. Even Spartacus did not discuss life beyond rebellion though Diona knew he’d lost wife and most of his heart in the process of being reborn. 

“Apologies” she said finally. Duro looked at her but there were no ghosts in his eyes this time. 

“Do not be” he said finally. “So much of my life is with you and had I not been clamped in irons we would have never have met and I would have thought I had gained happiness with some other women when the woman my heart and soul belonged to suffered in lands away from me. Meeting you was worth it and there is not a man or woman in this rebellion who has met other half that would not say the same” 

Diona blushed and then decided to voice her fears again.

“Sometimes I wish I could give you child” 

“Aye, I will not lie it is a thing I have thought about as well. But I love our daughters with everything I have, and if we want to add to our family one day we can.” 

Diona stared at him. 

“Are you saying…”

“I am saying nothing, or perhaps something I do not know. I am not one for clever words. But perhaps someday when we lay waste to Rome we can discuss having another child in our family. Many slaves are without mother and father and will need home” 

Diona thought privately that many Roman children would need home too but she did not venture thought. The topic of having another young life under her command a way the mostly independent orphans were not was something she had never dared dream. It did not matter to this wonderful man that he might not have a son of his own flesh and blood. She had gained a man here that many would want, and for some reason this perfection was hers. 

“You are perfection” she said finally voicing thoughts, Duro smiled at her his eyes large and bright in his face and his kiss was soft and gentle their tongues moulding together. 

“I am only basking in the shadow of my wife” he said gently. “And my daughters who are perfection personified” 

She hooked one leg around Duro’s leg and pulled him closer and her husband grinned the doubt and the shadows leaving his eyes as he hugged her closer and entered her again with one swift movement that never seemed to stop taking her breath away and together locked in their own little world they carried on their love affair until Diona felt that somewhere between their intense coupling they had become one, one soul, one heart, one body. 

She would be utterly undone if she lost this. If she lost him. 

Things broke up as sure as they always did within rebellion. They had gained most of the morning to self but hunger, desire to ensure that the children were not at sea (as Duro had remarked their was no telling with Freyja) and a desire to ensure that there was still a rebellion outside his door. 

They entered to complete carnage. 

Spartacus had returned and seemed to be curtailing Crixus’s power in public. Diona closed eyes in despair. 

“Go” she said to Duro knowing that he would want to be at the command when discussions were present. 

“See all orphans to their houses and ensure girls are safe behind locked doors” he said pressing kiss to her head. “I will be along shortly. Instruct Malia and Luc to start gathering things they will need if we leave this place and ensure girls are doing the same. I am not sure what is happening but if the girls can get some sleep this afternoon let them. It might be a long time before they get that chance again” 

Diona nodded her heart heavy. The villa she was sleeping in, the bed, the bath and the security had never seemed more borrowed than it had done now. She beckoned Malia her red hair tied up on her head in a knot. Luc watching silently, Annalise who followed him and then Sibyl and spoke quickly and quietly and then beckoned her girls to her. 

Once inside villa she bade both of the girls to sleep. Neither one of them questioned midday nap. The sun was hot and sleep was not hard to come by but she did not sleep. She went straight into the bath and spent time there washing herself lulling in the luxury, she stripped the bath of all values and then stripped her bed and filled chest of clothes including scrolls, parchment, skins of wine and other luxuries that might be traded down the road. She stripped the villa bare and then when she was done she waited. She thought that she would not be waiting long. 

However it was not Duro who entered the house. It was Nasir. 

He caught sight of Diona watching and sent her small smile. 

“He is well. He wanted me to assure you of that. Spartacus has dispatched him to greet men at docks to ensure ships. We have new plan so it seems. We are leaving—all those loyal to Spartacus, the ones loyal to Crixus will remain here but we are not fractured in the sense that we will not regroup. There is plan” He poured two cups of wine—the pink kind that Diona favoured. 

“You better sit down when you hear this” 

It took Diona three cups before she could form sentence and even then the word Fuck was rather prominent. Nasir grinned but the smile did not meet his eyes. Diona sighed. She considered Nasir as dear a friend as she considered Naevia and she felt heart hurt to see him in such personal strife. 

“Agron is still annoyed at your friendship with pirate?” 

Nasir rolled eyes heavenward. 

“It is not that. It Is…he implied that he should command me. I took collar around my neck and saw it to ash a long time ago. I will not put it back on for Agron”

Diona sipped her wine and once again marvelled at the stupidity of her brother by marriage. 

“Have you shared thoughts to this?” 

“Yes, for what good it did me”

“Then fuck him, make him grovel for forgiveness Nasir and ensure he understands that you are no man’s slave” 

Nasir snorted into wine and then put down cup. 

“May I ask a personal question?” 

Diona nodded. 

“You must understand…after Chadara…well…I have not had many people I would call friends, and very few I would have called sisters but I fear I have many in this new life. Mira, Sibyl, Diana the pregnant slave girl, perhaps even Laeta depending on events…but especially Naevia and yourself. You are my friends and my sisters and I would see bonds between you repaired” 

Diona took sip of wine. 

“It…she implied many things Nasir. I understand emotion running at height of battle but she implied that I got off easy. I was raped same as she was. I was beaten same as she was. I gave birth and raised a child in hell. I have suffered as much as she has perhaps more but I will not be spoken too as if I do not understand rape. It was my cunt that was tighter” 

Nasir shot her a look that told Diona she had said too much. She elaborated. 

“Cossutius was a roman man. He was high within society and so Batiatus and Lucretia chose to court his affection. He apricated virgins and so he made Naevia and I strip before he stuck his fingers in us and implied that I was the tighter cunt and then he…he got a gladiator. But that was not enough. So as gladiator raped me from front he raped me from behind. And then he chose me as his personal whore whenever he visited. He took me when I was scheduled for execution and then when he was done he took me to cart. I was four months pregnant at that time. He did not know.”

It was the first time she had spoken so candidly about her past. Duro had not known all the intimate details that Nasir had just learnt but she found it was easier to share this information with Nasir who was watching her with sympathy in his eyes but not pity. It was an important distinction. 

“Naevia is still bleeding from her scars” he said sagely. “But the two of you have a bond that is strong despite all odds.” 

“I still think about it” she said finally her eyes suddenly wet. “I try not to but the memories still haunt…I do not need to be told that I had it easier than others. Not from someone I considered my friend” 

Nasir said nothing for a moment and then decided to speak. 

“I cannot ask you to forgive Naevia for hurt that was cause. But I do ask of you to look at the bigger world. We are already fractured. And who knows when you and Naevia will see each other again. Do not end your friendship on such sour note”

It was a thought. Diona could not deny that. 

Diona saw her children to bath and then to the wagons where she goods were being packed. She closed the door on the bath, the bed, the house and the dreams that came with it and did not look back instead pressing forwards. Duro trusted Spartacus. She trusted Spartacus. 

Besides she had been in worse places than this. 

She caught sight of Naevia as she saw wagon loaded. The woman was engaged in conversation with Gannicus and then she turned and came towards Diona. 

There was a pause where they stood in front of them and then Diona with a sudden remembrance of when they were both girls and had clung to the other when they had missed their mothers upon appearance of a thunderstorm opened her arms and Naevia embraced her. 

They pulled away reluctantly. Not all had been resolved. But it was a start and that was all that mattered. 

She had instructed Freyja and Cecelija to help Malia and Luc who as the eldest were in charge in her absence. She instructed them both to keep her daughters close and she did not turn until she saw all of her fifteen orphans through the gates. 

Then she went in search of her husband. 

She found instead a bloodbath and the end to her vow to never pick up sword again. 

Because the Romans had entered Sinuessa en Valley.

She had found herself cornered with Lugo when Nasir joined her. She was not sure how long she had been fighting but Diona knew enough to know that she was severely out of practice. She ducked blow but received stinging cut upon arm. Nasir deftly killed attacker and then pushed her back into another small ally where they met Lugo. 

“We were betrayed by pirates” Nasir shouted. “They were upon docks.” 

“That does not explain where these have appeared from” Lugo roared as Diona stabbed another Roman in the stomach and then slit the throat of another. 

They were saved the speculation of such a question by Casstus who stopped solider from running sword through Nasir’s back only to nearly have arm removed by Agron. Diona peered through the haze of bodies and steel and blood and behind him she saw her husband face and armour streaked with blood and looking furious. 

“They have taken main gate” he said shortly pushing past Agron to envelop her in his arms for brief second. She saw his eyes alight on cut to her arm and the way she was limping on one foot from where she had fallen and saw his jaw clench with barley contained fury. “We must go to gate at the ridge. We do not have much time. Children?” 

“Already gone, I instructed Malia to stay with them and I do not think they disobeyed, they know better to enter fight they know that they cannot see clear end too” 

Duro nodded he gripped her by upper arm and then they were running, Agron, Nasir and the pirate running behind them and Lugo with his hammer in front. 

They avoided much contact with Romans until they got to the gate. Duro pushed her towards the gate and she took Naevia’s hand reaching for the comfort of friend Nasir following as Agron pushed him backwards the pirate disappearing in the crowd. 

“We need to ensure they do not follow” Nasir said ripping off a bit of cloth and tying it around Diona’s arm to stench the flow of blood. “Winter is weeks away from us and we have little grain and now no shelter. We cannot afford to be fighting Roman’s as well” 

Diona turned to see carnage had broken out between Romans and a man with shaggy blonde hair she had not seen before. Steadily they were edging backwards. 

“Where is Gannicus?” she asked Naevia. Naevia shook her head biting her lip within teeth her eyes never leaving Crixus. 

“He stayed to distract Romans with Donar though I fear it has not worked. I do not know where Nemetes is either” 

Diona nodded feeling her heart plunge a little in despair. Nemetes she could care less about but Gannicus had been a dear friend and Donar had spent many nights in temple telling stories to Freyja and Cecelija that had always made them smile and laugh—no small feet in those earlier days of freedom. 

Diona watched her eyes wide as finally, _finally _Agron and Duro pushed through the gate. Crixus had burned the rope and was still fighting Naevia screamed and then he was out and then just as she was sure they had lost Spartacus rolled out from under gate just as it shut and then stood up as the bangs and the shouts from Roman’s opposite pressed down upon them. 

Diona wrapped her arms around Duro as he hugged her to his side. She was trembling with both fear and cold even as he moved them forwards half dragging her, half carrying her towards the ridge where they would make camp as soon as it was possible. There were so many of them it was impossible to stop and take count of how many of them had survived and where everyone was. 

Something wet hit her shoulder as they moved uphill towards many other rebels who sprang forwards to help. She held out a hand in wonder and watched as something white and wet hit her. 

“Snow” Duro said finally. 

Diona stared at him. “I have never seen such things” she said finally. It was true. Winter in Capua ensured cold breeze and heated villa, warm blankets and hot food but never snow. Even within mines the thick walls and the mud had given an shelter of protection. 

She was aware that Freyja and Cecelija were there playing in the snow and hugging her but she did not feel them and only managed small smile before they were easily distracted as children of eight and eleven often were, and that Duro was conversing with Spartacus, Crixus and Agron in hushed tones. With the absence of Gannicus he was suddenly more in command than ever before. Naevia was suddenly beside her speaking her face urgent but Diona could only stare at the white of the sky. Too much had happened tonight for her to wrap mind around, it was impossible to believe that this morning she had laughed with Duro trapped in that impossibly warm bed and had taken long hot bath in luxury. 

Now it was all too much. 

Naevia was speaking again, her words frantic and her dark eyes filled with concern that was rapidly turning to panic and confusion but Diona could not hear her, could not see her, could hear nothing over the roar in her ears and the sudden faintness in her limbs. She was aware suddenly that her hands were clasped in Naevia’s and Duro was at her elbow but she could not hear them or see them and finally the events of the day caught up with her and her eyes rolled back in her head and she was aware of the pure white of the sky, the snow falling down and Duro’s panicked shout before she fainted in his arms and all went black around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, as always I will update you sooner than later and I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> As always feedback is adored and I want to thank all of you for your feedback, it means more to me than I can truly say.


	23. Shifting Equilibrium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As winter sets in the rebels are forced to take opportunities and risks they would not usually do. 
> 
> Freyja and Cecelija dream of a world beyond the rebellion and Crixus and Spartacus revert to their past as they once again come to blows over the rebellion’s future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter and we have only a few more left to go before the end of this story so please stay tuned as we near the end. 
> 
> Disclaimer-Nothing is mine in this chapter which is rather short and fluffy. 
> 
> Please Read and Review. 
> 
> And as always my usual warnings for anything to do with this fandom and the spelling, grammar and this type of language is always open to suggestion

When Diona woke she was aware that she was lying within tent wrapped in blankets. The snow was still flowing thick around the red coverings and she was wrapped underneath thick furs, small candles lit and incense burning within small dishes. She smelt the thick aroma of rose and moringa oil marring together a far cry from the lavender and sandalwood oil that she burned within own tent. It took her a heartbeat to realise that she was not in her tent but in Naevia’s.

There was a groaning noise that she realised vaguely came from her and she was aware as her eyes forced open that Naevia was sat on edge of makeshift bed. Gone was the armour and instead she was wrapped within warm blanket her hands polishing the bracelet she wore around her arm in the style she had adapted since gift was given…or looted depending on how you looked at such events.

She sat upwards and suddenly her friend was there with cup of wine in hand and soft smile upon face. Diona took a grateful sip and let the wine wash down her throat leaning back against the pillow and feeling her head throb.

“I fainted?” she asked finally.

“Yes” Naevia said. “And then you developed small fever. Medicus said it was due to emotions of all that you have been through and a touch of infection from cut upon arm. You have been unconscious for a week. Duro has been most concerned.”

Diona cracked one eye open. “Has he?”

Naevia rolled eyes small smile playing upon mouth. “He has almost been crazed. Agron took him to side and we placed you in here. He has been busy with children and with ensuring tents for rebels have been put up. But he has still been hanging around tent like errant dog. Indeed he will be most relieved to hear you are awake. I expect he will be coming to check up on you for the first time since new hour began any moment now.

Diona let out a week smile touched that Duro was still the same caring man he always had been and rather embarrassed all the same.

“I fainted” she said finally. “I have never done that. Not once, throughout those parties at the ludus and through time at the mines, I have never fainted whilst being raped or when fleeing for life. Never. The rebellion must be laughing at me”

Naevia rolled her eyes heavenwards.

“Sometimes Diona you can think and share the most foolish thoughts I have ever heard. Do you think Duro would stand for such actions? Besides you are treasured member of command. Concern for you has been high”

Diona smiled feeling touched beyond words. Naevia went to the edge of the tent and had words with someone standing beyond sight. She then came and sat down and then looking as if she was struggling with inner self she then stretched her hand outwards. Diona turned towards her and tucked fingers within her friends. She wanted to ask about the words that had been said but her heart was pulling her within different direction. She did not want to talk about that time in her life. She wanted to bury it with the girl that had given birth in the mud and who had thought being a whore to a gladiator was a good plan for life. She had worked hard to forget those memories and though she loved Naevia like sister their days of enforced silence was as such that she knew she would not go back to that girl in the mines.

So she did not invite Naevia to speak about memories that clearly haunted her. She was putting self first—she had dialogue with Duro that allowed her to talk about her feelings, her past and her trauma and know that she received no judgement for it only love. While she might not know much about what went on beyond the tent flap of Naevia and Crixus’s relationship she knew enough about other man to know that you did not storm mines or hunt down every slave cart in Capua to find woman that you did not lose heart, soul and mind too.

“Friends again?” Naevia asked finally.

“Always” Diona said softly. Nasir had been right. If there was one path that the three of them had learnt throughout hardship both as rebels and as slaves it was that life was short and painful and that happiness should be grasped with open hands and pettiness was for Romans.

The tent flap was shoved open and with the arrival of Duro face taunt with worry, dark circles etched under his eyes and his knuckles white with strain followed a swirl of white snow dusting his feet and a sharp wind that suddenly made her shiver. Naevia grinned and then made move to give them privacy. Diona thought that perhaps her friend wanted her own tent back the sooner the better and went to sit upwards.

“Girls?”

“Fine” Duro said his voice clipped and tone tight with some emotion that she could not name. He was still gazing at her with wide eyes. Diona felt her heart break a little bit more at state of him. He was wrapped within warm cloak but there was still dried blood under his chin as if he had not thought to wash since she had been taken with exhaustion, fever and the emotion of the events that she had been involved in.

“Duro”

There was nothing, only a faint tremor of emotion that ran down her husband’s back as if he was battling to keep caged animal at bay. Diona held out her arms feeling the cold air sting as bare skin was exposed to the elements.

“Duro” she said softly.

He broke then, she could see the emotions warring at his eyes and she saw the exact moment that the emotions like waves crashed up upon him. The green eyes two shades or so darker than his brother’s blinked rather hard twice and then he had crossed the small room displacing most of his armour, sword and cloak in the process and then he had rushed at her pulling her up out of makeshift bed and wrapping arms around her crushing him to chest and burying face in neck. Diona could feel the strong shoulders tremble and made attempt at best comfort she could despite the awkwardness of the angle.

“Duro I am well. I just…fainted…it is embarrassing to tell you the truth”

To tell the truth Diona was just rambling. She had no idea how to respond to this sudden display of emotion or the wetness that was rapidly dampening dress at the shoulder.

“You collapsed in my arms” Duro said his tone heavily muffled and constricted. “Your eyes rolled backwards and you collapsed and you would not respond to touch or call of your name. Medicus claimed it was exhaustion but then you developed fever and he told me I was at risk of losing you. I have never felt fear like that before in life”

Diona shushed him feeling her heart break for him all over again. Duro sat her down again her feet resting the floor but she had barely enough time to apricate the redness and shadows under eyes and the way his hands were trembling as he wiped face clear of any remnants of tears before his mouth was upon her and he was kissing her with all that he had. She responded feeling the desire that Duro always inspired in her rise again as she was pulled flush against him her body pressing against his battle hardened body primed like weapon.

“I do not know what took hold of me” she said finally when the need for breathing clean air took control of events. “I did not think of wound as serious and…I suppose rebellion is mocking me”

Duro growled proving to Diona in that moment that Naevia was right about any comments of her humiliation being shunned.

“If any were sharing such thoughts I would see brains to sand with bare hands”

Diona smiled resisting the urge to roll eyes heavenwards again. Gladiator’s all had similar traits even if they had never all fought within the same arena. Violence was an ingrained trait so it seemed. She smiled reaching out to touch cheek. Duro followed her touch leaning into her palm and she smiled.

“Apologies for causing fear” she said softly. “I truly did not mean to frighten you or girls”

“Oh the girls are fine” Duro said smile coming to face with a softness that she loved about him. “They are concerned of course but they were assured that you were on road to recovery and have been busy with tasks. We are finding as much fuel as we can as storm is coming. If we survive we will have to fight Crassus to cross ridge. Many have tried and fallen and we still are trying to find who made it out of city and who did not.”

“Who?”

Duro sighed heavily. “Donar and Gannicus are still missing, Nemetes is confirmed to be lost to this world. Other rebels but most managed to make it out with their lives. The girl who helped you with the braid is still missing. Many are impatient Crixus the lead. Agron fears that soon divide between Spartacus and Crixus will be back to younger selves when they fought upon the arena”

Diona nodded. Her heart grieved for all lost rebels but she thought that the loss of Nemetes was not the worst thing she had ever heard off. Duro picked up blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders tucking her into his side.

“How fare you?” he asked quietly.

Diona considered this for a pause.

“Tired” she confessed knowing honestly was the best policy. “And riddled with both hunger and desire. I long only for a tent and perhaps a night with husband and children safe and sound if you are not on duty?”

Duro gave a soft smile. “I will instruct Agron that you need watching for one more night. I do not think Spartacus nor Malia will mind, she has been taking care of orphans and he cares for you deeply. I think they will allow us one night. Storm will hit us upon morrow I fear. Therefore I think we should ensure all it safe and secure with the girls and wait it out. Even Spartacus is not mad enough to storm an actual storm.

Diona nodded and together they exited the tent.

The girls were waiting outside clearly waiting and after two hugs were Freyja clung to her with a tenacity that resembled her father and Cecelija looked at her with relief echoing in her eyes Diona followed her husband in search of a tent and a warm blanket.

But they got waylaid of course.

\--

Because very little could keep Gannicus at bay for long.

Gannicus dismounted from horse feeling tired to the bone and beyond confused. He could see Saxa from afar and the concern that was etched upon face despite knowledge that when they had entered their relationship it was only based on carnal passion and a great hunger for wine.

Now he was not so sure things remained the same between them.

Stupid fucking feelings.

Sibyl was helped off horse by Agron dismounting lightly wrapped in his cloak and face still spattered with the blood of that fucking pirate. She offered small smile but Gannicus did not know how to respond to that instead focusing on Spartacus and ensuring he had information ahead of him. He informed rebels that Donar had fallen and saw the shock and sadness reflected amongst all especially when a brother from the House of Batiatus had fallen.

He saw that many other rebels had survived. Sibyl now in conversation with Diona with Duro acting as shadow in a way that the German brothers always did. If it was Gannicus he would have been irritated by such devotion but then again he had never found someone other than Melitta worthy.

He very carefully did not look at anyone when that thought crossed mind. Thinking of things such as these would only cause confusion to self and no doubt heartbreak to two women who did not deserve such actions.

He was pulled out of thoughts however by something hitting his leg. He looked down and saw Freyja beaming at him, she was wrapped in warm cloak over her dress and Gannicus wondered if she had grown from memories of shadow child he had remembered seeing though he acknowledged that good food and sleep did wonders for a child even if they were eleven and growing into womanhood with each passing year.

“Off my leg child” he said reminding himself that this behaviour was irritating and not at all heart-warming. Freyja pulled back beaming and then scarpered off to where her sister was stood and Gannicus allowed himself a moment to imagine a future where he could be greeted by small child with dark hair and dark eyes and be safe in the knowledge that wife and child were safe in a home and not under threat from Romans.

He tore eyes away from the shadow child and turned back to present. Such dreams were not for the likes of him, such dreams did not belong to men like him, he was a man of blood and battle. And battle would be his end…there was no point in dreaming of something that he did not deserve.

Agron and Duro both clapped him on shoulder and then the latter went back to wife scowling somewhat when Diona hugged him and pressed her hand to his cheek telling him she was glad he was alive. Gannicus watched them go for a moment and felt a stab of desire for what they had deep within stomach.

He wanted that. The easy domestication that they had.

Spartacus clapped him on shoulder and they moved towards more pressing concerns. Any thoughts about what could have been disappeared quickly when they came across the ridge separating them from freedom.

As Spartacus said, nothing was impossible for the richest man in the Empire.

As Crixus and Agron told him later as he was erecting tent—they were fucked.

\--

The storm was raging around them with an increased intensity. Duro knew that if their was any night that this storm was going to hit it would be this night.

He was of Lands East of the Rhine. He knew when storms hit. He had lived through many as child and as man and now he was surviving one as father.

It gave him an advantage.

He was proud of it.

They had made shelter within tent and he had ensured that furs were banked against the tent ready to stop flap from opening and cold air from entering. He had ensured tent was buried down with rocks so that it would not topple and he had seen candles extinguished just in case wind made them topple.

Diona had gone to ensure her orphans were safe. Malia, Luc, and Henri were sharing one tent, Annalise was sharing tent with four of the younger girls by the name of Esmeralda, Thea, Zianna and Neve. The boys (twins Lucan and Lorcan and younger boys by names of Ezra and Geo) were under care of Johaan. Once they were safe he knew she would return to him and they would hunker down and stay safe until storm passed. Agron was with Nasir. For now they were safe.

The girls were already lying down wrapped next to each other in furs. Cecelija had gone straight to slumber when she had been called to it’s shores and her head had hit pillow and Duro had brushed his thumb down soft and rosy coloured cheeks and had marvelled in the knowledge of what it was to love something more than life itself.

Freyja had curled up next to her but she was still wide awake. Her cheek had smoothed against silken pillow and she was watching with wide eyes. This was the child that had saved him from total annihilation within mines. He had soft spot for her that would not go away in the way he had known his father had held softer spot for Agron rather than Duro. The love he had felt had never been in question but he knew that there was always a soft spot for his first born.

“Father” Freyja said softly into the silence. Duro turned away from watching the flap of tent and wondering when Diona was going to arrive.

“Yes?”

“Are we all going to die?”

He stared at her.

“Freyja you know that the gods call us to their shores at some point in our lives”

“Oh I know that” Freyja said pushing herself up on one elbow her dark hair spilling over one side of her shoulder. “I know that, I mean…do you honestly believe that we can lay waste to Rome or that we will all die in attempt. Because I’d like to have knowledge”

Duro blinked at her. “Where have thoughts like this come from?”

“I just…sometimes I think that it would be nice to not have to worry about the Romans. I used to dream of being like Saxa. One of the best female warriors within rebellion. I do not dream of such things anymore. And I realised that it is because I do not wish to die…I do not expect death anymore. Does that make sense?”

It did in some way. Duro could understand the longing for a life without picking up a sword or bow and a longing for safety under one roof. He wanted it for Diona, for his children, for Agron, Nasir, and even for Crixus and Naevia if only because his wife considered Naevia dearest friend.

And his heart broke because so many things his heart had wanted he could not get. He could not grant his children a world free of the power of Rome. He could not see his wife free of the memories that still haunted her. He could not see brother to true happiness that he deserved. He had his freedom, they had their freedom but the truth of the matter was that he could not tell his eleven year old daughter that she would survive to see twelve.

(Not that, that matter, should Diona loose life—as unbearable as it would be he ultimately prevail for the sake of his children. Losing them…well…he may as well be among the damned and the dead)

“Freyja” he said finally. “I understand where thoughts are. And I cannot promise that this rebellion will end happily. Already we have lost friends, but I can promise you, you will never were the chains of slavery again. And it is better to die a free man, woman or child than it is to die in chains, we both know that. I wish I could give you hearts desire but I cannot. All I can give you is something you should already hold and it is freedom.”

Freyja laid gaze upon him for a time and then nodded. She looked about to utter another word but she refrained herself. Duro felt a slither of amusement mixed with a pang of distress, it seemed his eldest was beginning to grow old. She had become woman with a woman’s knowledge of how cruel the world was before her time but there had been always aspects of her behaviour that had reminded him of child. Now it seemed she was asking the harder questions. Queries no longer about next meal but weather or not she would survive to see her next birthday. Queries no child should ever ask.

The flap to tent opened and Diona came in. She was wrapped in warm cloak but her hair and eyelashes were dotted in flecks of snow.

“All is secured. Spartacus believes storm will hit this night and we should all be ready. Make sure tent is secure Duro, I do not want anyone outside this night.”

“Aye” Duro said brushing one hand down Freyja’s head as she righted self against the pillow and her eyes closed lashes fluttering against pale skin. Her breath eased out as sleep came to her and he moved to stack tent strong against wind and keep cold out as much as he was able to do so. It would still be a cold night with them huddled together for warmth but it was better than many rebels feared.

Diona pulled shoes off feet and ran cloth over them followed by that lavender cream she enjoyed so much. Duro did not understand after all shoes were a luxury, they had all gone barefoot and felt stone and dust and dirt under foot but Diona washed her hands and took another cloth to wash face and then pulled her dark hair back over her shoulder and then once she had changed into the silvery sheet of satin she liked to wear to bed (giving Duro a wonderful view of her back and arse in the process) she climbed underneath furs and tucked them in around her.

They had chosen to retire wearing clothes and into the semi darkness of the tent. Listening to the howling wind that still somehow seemed to penetrate the thickest of furs and blankets that they possessed they clung together as the roars of the wind got louder and louder. Duro was glad that hunch had proven correct and they had not lit the candles but the wind made it almost impossible for slumber to come and even huddled with his wife breathing in the scent of her with every breath Duro could still feel her body shuddering with the cold.

They dozed intermittently whenever weather permitted it. Sometime during nightfall Cecelija gave up pretence of slumber and dragged her furs and blankets over to them so she was pressed within middle. It took seconds before Freyja did same. Duro manoeuvred them so both girls were in between Diona and himself and therefore gained most of the heat. He tucked himself under blankets again packed so tightly he remembered the heat of the slave ship he had travelled to Roman shores in.

He felt a hand reach out over the girls shoulders and link their fingers together. Diona of course. Duro looked up but could not see her within the darkness of the night, of the wind and of the snow as it blustered around their tent which despite all fates conspiring against them managed to keep standing tall and strong.

He gripped her fingers back within his own and noticed she had removed the rings least the metal mould to her fingers and they stayed like that closing their eyes whenever they were unable to keep them open and praying away a storm that never seemed to stop.

Morning came as it must and Duro felt the pull to slumber first. Always within this family was he the earlier riser. None of the woman next to him would get up before noon unless called to. His eyes flickered open and he saw sunlight weak though it was streaming through fabric of tent even as snow bared down upon them. The side of tent was slightly bent inwards but other than that they had survived.

He turned to see all three of them breathing next to him and he grinned. The wind had gone, the storm had died down and they had made it through the longest night. He turned over and went back to sleep feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the mounds of furs and fabrics he was buried under.

-

\--

Life post the storm returned to normal Freyja noticed. They assisted the cleaning out of the tents and her father went off to help clear the dead who had not survived. Malia managed to cook soup on a small fire which was weak in flavour but hot enough to warm hands and bellies. Their mother ensured that they were all safe and then of course the call had gone up for rebels to assist Spartacus and one night Freyja had watched through half open eyelids as their father kissed their mother goodbye and slipped from tent flap as if shadow.

She did not hear him come in called to slumber beforehand so she did not hear until late morning having slept in to catch up on sleep lost in storm that Naevia had been injured, that Donar had been found hanging from a cross mutilated beyond any respect, that the events of the night had been a cleaver trap laid by Marcus Crassius their most dangerous enemy yet or that the dead had increased beyond Spartacus’s wildest dreams or that and perhaps the most important thing to have missed out of all events that had taken place that morning that seemed to some to stay forever was that Crixus and Spartacus had once again come to blows of their youth and that this time divide might be permanent.

Sleeping however Freyja did not hear that, she was beginning to think that snow did not agree with her. She was half Roman by birth she knew of this much but she had never inquired where her birth mother had come from. She held no real memories of the woman and what she did have was as substantial as smoke and shadow. But she liked to think that it was someplace warm. She had not gone north of Capua as a child and the winter had hardly hit the town centred so far away from the coast and the harsh winds that followed. Either way she was perfectly content to spend morning in makeshift bed in tent to small for own good sleeping away the snow and the cold and the wet and the nagging fear that the divide between Crixus and Spartacus meant nothing good.

Of course when she woke she saw the pile of bodies she was to climb over to get to safety.

She managed it though she had to close her eyes and grip her father’s cloak tightly as she slipped a little. Gnashed together her little teeth so that no sound of her genuine distress came out and then carry on walking to higher ground where they could take camp away from the shelter of the winds and let the Roman’s face their wrath. Another storm was soon to hit but their father his own face rather strained at what they had just had to do, told them that he was full of confidence that it would be much easier than the last one.

Freyja wondered if that was a saying for the world they lived in and each day would be much easier than the last, that soon they would have shelter and warmer clothing and a hot bath and the joys of the world that the girl in the mines had never experienced. She did not want to go back.

But then she remembered the tension between Spartacus and Crixus, between her mother and Naevia. Between them and the Romans and though she was tired and aching and shivering with cold, exhaustion and something she thought might be despair she picked herself up with the same tenacity she had clung to within mines and began to set up a smaller tent so that she and Freyja might this night or sometime soon, gain some much needed fucking privacy where they could laugh the night away as sisters do and forget the world outside and the legions of people who desired them dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is as always adored, wishing you all health and happiness and I will hopefully update sooner rather than later.


	24. I Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crixus and Spartacus come to a fork in the road so do Agron and Duro with consequences that will effect them for the rest of their lives. 
> 
> Diona meanwhile meets a slave with a tragic background not that much different than her own which gives her perspective. 
> 
> Some smut within this chapter and the usual Spartacus Trigger Warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, so here is another chapter and this is officially the longest one that I have written so I hope you enjoy. We are nearly at the end with three more chapters to go before the end of this story so I want to thank you all for sticking with it for so long. 
> 
> As always you know my disclaimers and my comments about spelling, grammar and language so please keep that in an open mind and as always this is a Spartacus fanfiction so keep in mind the triggers for that fandom and the smut that is in this chapter. 
> 
> And let me know what you think.

They were now being hunted like dogs. It was clear that Crassus was not going to give away an advantage and the war which to Duro had started out with such a hopeful message was now seeing many to melancholy.

It was not unusual. They had their moment where the dark came to them taking over their sense and reminding them how hopeless their ambitions were but then they would achieve a victory that Rome thought they could never do and it would boost morale but it seemed that since the loss of Sinuessa they had all grown a little more darker and a little more feral in their desire to see Romans to the afterlife.

They tried to put as much distance between the advancing army and themselves as possible but in reality that was only a day or two. They needed to regroup and retrain and take refugee in villa where they could be safe but they were stumbling through muddy swamp lands as the ice turned to mush and the rain grew heavy and the nights still cold and Duro could see there was no point in farming land like this because you could never gain crop off it. And if you followed this thread of thinking then what was the point of building a villa.

Besides. A cluster of villas would be a stretch, they needed another city to host all growing rebels. Their numbers were growing not just of warriors but of women and children, families being created and formed and more mouths to feed than they had the grain for.

During those dark days Duro felt like the very skin was being pulled off his bones and despair was clutching at his heart, death his friend and companion as his father had had in this dog. There was no way out for this, him, his wife and his children but death and all they were doing were delaying the process but not delaying the eventuality that would happen if not today then then perhaps the next. He had never been one to consider mortality and now he found that there was nothing to do but consider it.

Thank the Gods for Diona. Had he not had her in his life he would have given in to the waves of desolation crashing down upon him. She was always there endlessly smiling at him, a touch on his arm, her body curled around his in their tent, the warmth of her and he burrowed into her some nights wanting to inhale her very skin. He could not imagine what Crixus and Naevia had, had to endure keeping their love a secret. He was not sure how you could see each dawn and each moon with such a secret for his love for his wife only increased when he saw her attend to new orphans or new children. Sometimes there were women who had escaped masters who had been treated rudely by their masters and Diona who had walked those steps before sometimes spent hours helping them walk towards their destination, a soothing path for them to talk through their emotions. Other times she would be with him in their tent and she would help him out of his armour and massage the kinks out of his shoulder. Other times she would simply strip him naked and then wrap herself around him holding him close and pretending not to comment on the melancholy that had seized him.

The girls had bared up in a way that made Duro’s heart swell and clench in equal measures. They always kept up with rebellion though they were so tired when they set up camp at times they fell asleep before tent had been created. He tucked them in at night watching the two children, neither of whom had his blood, but both of whom had his name breath in slumber and knew what it was to love something or someone more than life itself.

Diona said nothing about downwards turn in his spirits but the struggle was present when she looked at him. It was a present thing amongst the rebellion and Spartacus could do nothing to prevent it because there was nothing in the vicinity that could provide absolution.

Duro had been born a soldier, he was the son of two soldiers, the brother of a soldier, before Diona his whores had been soldiers and he had been taken from the battlefield of a war that had claimed most he had once called brothers. He had then become a slave and then a warrior once more. It had been easy for him to adapt to sword in hand. Never before in his life since boy of thirteen had he thought of a world where he did not live and die with a sword in hand.

Yet now for reasons unknown to him he found his thoughts turning to world where sword was not raised. To a world just as Diona had described when they had been in bed together back in city and their comfort seemed never to end. She had talked about a home where she had a bed and a bath and a safe place for the children where she did not have to lift sword and she could see them grow into women of their own and her days and nights were filled with a husband who provided her an endless bounty of food, kept danger from her door and who died in his own bed a man marked by the passage of time and not with sword shoved through his back and Duro ever the consummate solider had found himself wanting a world like that and a world where he did not have to pick up sword at any given opportunity.

He could not do that though, he could not provide his wife and his daughters with the promise of world free of the shadow of Rome unless they slipped away from rebellion and while Duro knew he had changed from the boy he had been when he had set foot upon Roman shores, he knew he would never have changed to the point where he had become a coward.

Nor would wife ever want that.

He thought many a time about sharing thoughts of a better, peaceful world with his wife and brother but as soon as thoughts entered head he felt them slip through like grains of sand in a Roman hourglass.

And he could not stand to even think of sharing them with Agron who had become more feral and more hungry for blood just as Duro was trying from it.

Once Duro had, had the thought of sending Diona and children away over the mountains where the terrain was as such that the Romans would never have gotten there but he stomach revolted at such an idea. Besides he lived with three strong females all of whom had their own mind and were not afraid to voice their opinions. He imagined he would go quite deaf and quite mad with all the arguments that, that conversation would ensure.

A little light at the end of the darkest of nights came as they made camp for the second week. Diona had been carrying wood in her arms when Annalise had run up to her and whispered something in her ear. She had deposited wood into a surprised Castus’s arms and had ran off.

Out of curiosity rather than anything else Duro had followed running into Agron who was following a slave in a yellow dress, there was the sound of screaming and then Spartacus was there and the three of them peered into tent to see a women with fair hair, heavily with child baring down on that child as Diona, Laeta and another woman in the yellow dress all attempted to help her.

Duro paused. He had never see child born and now looking at the mess of blood and fluid he was rather glad of that he had never had cause to be in the room when babe was entered into the world. The woman was rambling with pain and wine and the Gods only knew what else bared down and then there was a noise that Duro could not explain, Spartacus took the knee to assist and then there was the thin cry of the newborn babe a boy healthy, whole and free.

And then it all went to shit.

The woman Kore bore the mark of Marcus Crassus. Diona had followed Laeta into the tent letting Annalise and Malia assist Diana the slave who had given birth. She had a sense that there was something happening that she did not want to miss. Duro followed perhaps sensing the anger radiating off her in waves. Diona had seen many a haunted look in the eye of many a female slave and she knew what had driven Kore away from the camp she had been residing in. She would be damned if Spartacus would send her back.

She entered just as Kore was confessing tearfully that the son of the man she loved (and incidentally the man that Spartacus was the mortal enemy of) had laid hands upon her and had continued to do so. Diona gritted her teeth. The story was as such—so familiar she already knew it chapter and verse and even now, safe and secure in the love of a good man and a good husband with two little girls and a free of such tainted hands she had to repress shudder at the thought of unpleasant memories being stirred towards surface.

Latea was strong in her opinion that the girl should be granted freedom and Diona made a note within mind to as that woman for a drink upon a day. She had a spirit to be admired.

But she felt compelled to speak her mind in matters such as this.

“Spartacus, as a woman who has been assaulted as Kore has been and as woman who has lent ear to many in this rebellion who has also suffered similar fate, I ask that you forgive her for her master though that is not of her choice. if you wish to turn those away from freedom because of their masters I may as well go back to the mines”

It was bold words she spoke. She did not consider Spartacus the brother that she knew her brother in law considered him but a dear friend and she would consider him as such. Certainly she would speak to him as such.

Spartacus gazed upon her and then his attention turned to Latea. He nodded and then thrust Kore at them both. Between the two of them they managed to get her back to a tent, Laeta tucked the woman under a blanket even as she shivered due to the adrenaline leaving her body.

“Gratitude for assistance” Laeta said turning round and wrapping cloak around thin shoulders. Diona was more amused than anything else to see that it had once shouldered Spartacus. Of course he would form attachment to Laeta, she had heard stories of his wife and there was of course Mira. Spartacus enjoyed difficult women who did not fall at his feet.

“None needed. Sometimes the men have to be reminded of humanity and we women are the best weapon in that regard. You spoke well to Spartacus, it is clear he takes words to heart”

Laeta blushed which told Diona all she needed to know. She resisted urge to giggle again but light hearted moments within rebellion were hard to come by. She smiled instead and moved to make her leave. “You will stay with Kore?”

“Of course” Laeta said with a gentle smile. “She can share residence with me. I have not share quarters with any other woman other than my…well…since I was a girl. It will be nice to share company with someone who will for a time be considered an outcast like me”

Diona had not thought of it that way. “I do not hold believe in such things” she said resolutely. “Bring Kore to tent when she is ready to face outside world and we can share cup of wine and female conversation”

Laeta smiled. “I do not know your name” she said awkwardly. “But I thank you for your assistance this night”

“My name is Diona”

“Ah you are the woman with the two children who fought at temple against Glaber?”

“Indeed I am, though only my eldest picked up weapon and then at my deepest reluctance”

“Children are such a blessing. I could not have any with my husband, he blamed me”

She looked surprised as she said this, as if she could not believe she had shared something so personal with a stranger such as Diona but Diona’s heart went out to her and she touched her hand in solidarity.

“Sometimes men lay blame towards the women” she said sagely. “And that is because they cannot accept the fault lies within themselves. Do not despair, I have seen stranger things happen within this rebellion than a woman thinking she is barren of all hope given something as precious as a child or a good man to hold her on darkest nights”

Leata smiled at her and clasped her hand around Diona’s in gratitude.

“Only you would consider offering hand of friendship to woman who had once stood Roman and another who had once stood friend, lover and confident to Marcus Crassus” Duro said later once they were within tent. Diona lit the last taper and placed hold around it so it would not blow within wind and then reached to run comb through hair wincing as it tangled. She thought that perhaps having it loose throughout the day and long enough now to reach small of back was not practical.

“I should cut this off at shoulders like other woman do” she said wincing. “For knots tangle within hair and make it almost as impossible to contain as fate”

Duro shifted.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” he said sounding aghast at the very prospect. “Your hair is gift from Gods.”

“Oh?” Diona asked laughing despite herself and turning to face him.

“Indeed, why would you sever something so stunning?”

“You are for flattery” she said in indulgent tones.

“Aye” he said quiet unabashed. “And I confess that if you were to cut off hair my heart would break”

Diona snorted leaning back against the strong corded muscles of his back. “Well we would not wish for that to happen” she said indulgently. “Now do you want to tell me what has been plaguing mind of late? For I have eyes much as any other”

Duro sighed leaning back against mass of pillows as Diona took opportunity to remove dress. Duro’s hands stroked down her naked back and she leaned into touch.

“If I asked you to take children and go over the hills without me would you do such a thing?”

Diona started whipping around to face him uncaring that she was naked.

“You swore to me that I would never look for you and find you waiting, and now you fucking decided to cast me and children aside?” She seethed with more anger than hurt even as Duro’s gaze flickered back to her.

“You are my life” he said simply. “My heart will never recognise any but yours as it’s equal. But I know that my heart will seize within chest if I was to drag you and the children to death.”

Diona stared. “You doubt the cause?”

“No. And I love Spartacus as if brother, but I wonder weather or not we will achieve outcome. I wonder if I am changing from outcome. I am not sure if I can give you that villa in Rome and a bounty of food, silk to drape yourself in and security”

“Who said I wanted silk? Duro I want you and our children in any way I can. You…you are a dream I never thought I would attain. A man loving me? Desiring me? With a child the product of unfortunate handling, covered in scars and bruises some seen and many hidden. You gave life back to faded shell of a woman. I would not turn away from you even if you asked, my heart would not survive it. I desire you even if it leads me to my death. And as for the girls…” here she rolled eyes heavenwards.

“Can you imagine what Freyja would say if you told her to go. You’d get a day between you and her and then she would be back”

Duro chuckled. “Errant thought perhaps” he confessed. “But I do wish I could give you peace”

“My path has been chosen long ago” Diona said slipping under furs and stretching to assert more of a comfortable position. “Not by anyone but myself. I choose you in any way you come to me, in whatever life we are in enslaved, free, and in death as in life. And I cemented that decision when I took your ring and the moniker of wife. I will not turn away from you now. So do not waste precious time asking it off me”

Duro huffed though Diona could tell he was smiling.

“Has a man ever loved such a woman?”

“She but loves her husband and would see him inside of her least she tend to aching need within legs herself” Diona replied teasingly. Duro reached out and gripped her hand before it lowered. Diona felt giggle rise in her again and still she was astounded at how easy and natural such desire was. But she would not allow him satisfaction.

She flipped him so that she was straddling him. Duro pushed himself upwards his stomach taunt with muscles and pressed open kisses on her neck and then downwards enfolding one nipple between his teeth. Diona let her head fall back lost to his ministrations as he switched to other breast. She pushed him backwards when pleasure rose and kissed him pushing her tongue inwards and feeling his hands come to her arse gripping hard.

She felt another surge of wickedness and she turned attention to husband’s pulse point pressing kiss both hard and soft and then when she was sure she was ready she bit downwards until she was sure she would leave mark.

“There” she said sitting upwards running a hand through her hair and letting it fall backwards so her breasts and flank were exposed.

“Now everyone will know that the best man in the rebellion is claimed for.”

And without giving him moment to respond she lifted herself upwards and sunk down on his cock in one fluid moment that had them both groaning.

He let her set pace and she rode him comfortably feeling pleasure mount. Duro’s hands on her hips rode her to completion and her moan of pleasure as she climaxed and felt him empty within her was drowned out by the kiss he claimed as she finally slumped down on top of him.

Duro kissed her upon head and slid out ensuring they were still close.

“Forgive me” he said pressing lips down upon hers with urgency. “I must have been struck with passing loss of mind to think that I could ever let this go”

Diona tucked her face into his collarbone and smiled.

Agron raised eyebrow when he saw mark adored neck.

“You wear mark as if boy struck by cunt for first time” he said with brotherly scorn.

Duro sighed. He was in far better place today than he had been since leaving the city. He was not allowing Agron to take that away from him even if the jest was harmless enough.

“Jealously does not become you brother”

Agron made rude hand gesture that had she been yet of the living would have earned him a smack upon head from furious mother.

The next day they found much needed respite in the shape of a cluster of villa’s surrounded by prosperous land. The taking of them was soured somewhat by the news that finally, Spartacus and Crixus were going their separate paths. Duro was not surprised by this, he had expected that the two men so different in their leadership and so different in path agreed upon would come to either final blow or fork in path they could not come back from. What was important was the path that each rebel had to choose. Crixus’s path which was a desperate plan to attack Rome and Spartacus’s which was to turn and slip away into the hills for the opportunity to live free of the grasp of Rome.

Duro found thoughts straying to each different choice as many a man and woman had to do in those days where they settled into villas and Spartacus, Crixus, Gannicus and Agron the four generals, the four left who had all fought in the arena with brands on their arm and had gained reputation took to the nearest cities and towns and ripped them apart in search of steel, wine and food. He stayed behind to ensure that everyone else got settled, that the woman and children were left free of prying eyes or grabbing fingers and he saw Freyja and Cecelija rip apart a room where he was sure child of Freyja’s age must have been residing (and he would not dwell on that unless necessary) and find silk dresses in a deep purple shade and a bright pink, gold chains and hair combs and warm cloaks edged in fur.

Diona too changed her dress one night into a deep blue that shone against her pale skin and before brother’s return Duro spent a good hour on his knees dress bunched around his ears ensuring his wife knew how much he enjoyed the change in attire.

But that did not stop him thinking upon chosen path and coming to conclusion that despite the man he had once been he was husband and father now and husband and father first. He was a warrior as well and while the warrior wanted to lay slaughter to Rome the husband and father knew that there was only one choice for the good of his family.

“I believe” he said one night before brother was to return. “That we should stay with Spartacus”

Diona pushed herself up on her elbow her dark hair tumbling around her face and chest and Duro spared a small thought of the indignant kind that she would have cut short this masterpiece of dark silk that was her hair.

Honestly!

Women.

“You would put down sword and turn away from Rome?”

Duro nodded. “I suspect that Crixus’s dreams will be short lived” he confessed. “And I doubt his leadership. He is a good man and I love him like brother though I never thought to call Gaul as such and I know despite your differences you consider Naevia as sister. But I doubt they will achieve it. A full rebellion with Spartacus as leader would struggle to take Rome, every man, woman and child would defend it and the Generals far away fighting battles would swarm. We would never have moments peace and even then each man in the Senate has an army. The Emperor has an army. And then what? Spartacus becomes Emperor of Rome? Crixus? For how long until we topple again. This a wheel I do not think we can see ourselves out of. And I believe Crixus is too impulsive and too dominated by thoughts of blood lust for him to get farther than the gates. We’ve had a brilliant run of things, we have shown the Republic to fear slaves rather than discard them, we have ensured that they never forget that one day another Spartacus could take away their cities and their gold and their security, that being Roman is not a net providing eternal safety. We have shown them that one day they will fall. I do not know what more we can do if we want to live. And I want to live with you and our children. I want to come home and know that you are safe inside strong walls. I want there to come a day where I know I never have to pick up sword. The mountains are sheltered, many tribes hide there, Rome does not think of them as worth much. And Romans are not well known for their mountain warfare, they have never really gotten into Thraice beyond what Spartacus has shared. I feel we will be safe hidden away and soon to be forgotten”

Diona listened to him in silence and then her head came to rest upon chest. Duro curled one hand into the dark tresses that spread out over his chest like softest blanket.

“What of Agron?” she said finally. “Do you believe that he will put up sword and follow? Or can you stand to see brother march to what you suspect is certain death?”

Duro sighed, here was crux of matter, decisions to be made. They had always been brothers, Agron and Duro the German brothers. They had fought together, lived together, found and secured lives and loves and roles within rebellion but Duro knew Agron like he was a second skin. He knew that his brother chose sword before all else. And if he chose this moment in the darkness with rebellion teaming all around him, his brother still engaged in sorting supplies for the coming months he knew that the time had come for them to take separate paths, they were different men than they had been when they had reunited and with he supposed different priorities.

“If Agron choses to follow Crixus I will not stand in his way” he said quietly. “And it will pain me to lose him Diona. But he is his own man just as I am mine. We cannot live within the confines of the past, we must live in the future. My future is before anyone else, you and those children we have loved and raised and protected.”

Diona said nothing again and then when she spoke her voice was like snow, quiet and soft.

“You are a man the likes of which girls dream off” she said finally. “There is nothing I can ever do to show gratitude for finding me within mines, for saving me when I gave up on self. For loving child born of such unfortunate circumstances, for accepting limitations and for this incredible life we have shared.”

Duro wanted to laugh but found that he was breathing rather raggedly. He tilted Diona’s head upwards and moulded their mouths together.

“No” he said their noses brushing together. “It is I who should shower you with gratitude. You have given me something that I never thought I could want. So many years I dealt in the false coin of lust and vanity and wasted flirtation and all along I never realised that there was something purer under that until I met you.”

“Flatterer”

“Minx”

Diona grinned wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him even closer entangled in the bed covers.

“Duro” she said just as sleep was about to call. Duro hummed running his hands up and down the side of her ribs feeling her shiver at his touch.

“In this villa of ours somewhere over the mountains…I want a bath”

Duro snorted with a sleepy kind of laughter.

The separation of the two armies took place two days later. Enough food and goods had been plundered and the wine was enough for all within the rebellion. Diona entreated Malia to look after younger children. There was a sense of goodbyes everywhere. Most of the orphans were staying together but Diona sensed that had it not been for Henri, Luc would have followed Crixus. The two brothers were close together the elder becoming more like father and Diona watched Henri share cup with Freyja and resisted urge to smile.

Gannicus she was surprised to learn was staying with Spartacus. But then Diona felt her eyes drift to Sibyl her hair loose out of it’s braid her dark eyes sparkling and felt heart lift. She knew why Gannicus was staying behind.

“It lifts spirt to see you to such joy” she said slipping next to Gannicus as he filled cup. Gannicus looked at her surprise colouring face before it smoothed into expression of a man rather content with the way his life was turning out.

“Indeed. It is a far cry for me to refuse to lift sword and turn away from fight even if it half assed.”

“You mean you do not believe Crixus will be the new Emperor of Rome?”

Gannicus choked on his wine.

“Fuck no. But he and Naevia see their lives in a different direction than I see mine. And after all they have been through they are entitled to that choice”

“Indeed”

Gannicus shot her appraising look.

“You are Duro are staying with Spartacus?”

Diona nodded.

“Regardless of path Agron travels down? I understand he had not made decision regarding who he is following”

“Regardless” Diona said softly. Gannicus said nothing but his hand came around to rest upon small of back and once Diona might have blushed and reduced to giggles but now she did not. She knew it was a sign of friendship.

“Melitta would have been proud of you and Naevia” he said finally. “She would have loved rebellion and opportunities presented within”

Diona smiled. “She would have scolded all gladiators over wounds” she said finally. “And then taken me and Naevia to task in same breath”

“Aye” Gannicus said grinning. “That she would have done. Perhaps before final parting you two should put complicated differences aside.” He smiled at her and then went in search of Sibyl and Diona struck with sudden desire to let him know the truth spoke.

“She would have been overjoyed to see you happy. Regardless of feelings.”

She knew Melitta that much to know it to be true. Gannicus nodded once and then was gone through the crowd and Diona squared her shoulders, took her wine and went to find Naevia.

Agron had been engaged in conversation with Nasir and there was something in the way that they held each other that spoke volumes to Duro waiting behind corner. His brother looked…_old. _

There was no other way of describing expression etched upon face. Duro had never considered Agron as old though there was a two year wait between them. Agron had always been there, solid and inflexible even when presence was not always at Duro’s side. Thoughts of his brother had kept him alive within mines grasp and the age difference being so small Agron had at times been closer to parent than to brother. Now looking at him Duro could see what his brother would look like if old age stalked his heels. Now he could see the face of his father.

And he knew just by looking at him that Agron had made choice and it would not be to lay down sword and go into the mountains and raise goats and tiller land.

Nasir pulled back from embrace and then turned on heal leaving his brother bereft of comfort. Duro slid in next to him staring.

“You are going with Crixus?”

“Yes” Agron said finally working words into dry throat. “And you are not”

“I remain with my wife and children and Spartacus yes”

He could have begged Agron to stay with him, Agron at such a point where emotions between Nasir and Duro could be easily manipulated to proper purpose. But Duro could not do that, had never been a man who could do that. Agron deserved the dignity of a choice. Even if Duro did not agree with that choice. Even if his heart was breaking at the thought of it.

“Nasir is to stay with Spartacus” Agron said his voice small. “I have left him”

“Why?” Duro asked though he already knew answer to question.

“So I do not have to see him hang from cross if we lose” Agron said simply. “So I do not have to see him fall this time. There is a very small chance we can win here but I am a warrior, you could adapt to live outside of a sword I cannot. I am not as strong as you”

“That is horseshit” Duro said simply. “You were always stronger than me brother”

Agron gave soft smile. “No, I could not have survived the mines for as long as you had. I could not have built myself a life from nothing the way you did. I am proud of you brother”

Duro swallowed down the emotions warring within him and instead pulled Agron into a hug. He tried to pour every ounce of love into that hug and everything he could not say as there was too much to say in a simple message of words. There were years of rivalry, years of annoyance at the other in the contradictory way of brothers and at times it was always underpinning the deep love they felt for each other. Duro wanted to tell him that he understood why he was choosing this path and that had things been different he would too. But if things had been different he might not be alive. Diona might not be alive, Cecelija never born and Freyja just another slave who had drowned in the mud of the mines.

They stayed like that for a time and then Agron pulled back.

“Promise you will look after Nasir brother, and ensure he gets measure of happiness even if it within someone else’s arms.” His face crumpled as if very idea was torture for him and Duro nodded.

“Of course” after all he reasoned what did Agron expect. Diona to let Nasir starve?

“Go and see to wounded heart and ensure that Spartacus understands decision. We can talk at dawn’s light. I will ensure girls know of decision and why to the best of my ability. They will know for what their Uncle is fighting for.”

It was bittersweet for him to watch Agron go with a clap on his arm but he knew that Nasir at this moment needed comfort more and Spartacus needed to know that he was losing another General.

He turned to find Diona but he suspected she had already gone to see Naevia. They had a longer, complicated history that needed to be put to bed before either woman could truly move on. Duro caught sight of his daughters, Freyja dancing around with Henri eyes sparkling with merriment of wine and Cecelija playing game of dice for ribbons with three other girls. He sighed and knew he had to break news to them that their Uncle was leaving.

Perhaps he would see to it when they were in bed. And let them have this golden night for a little longer.

With that he went in search of a much needed cup of wine.

Diona found Naevia in the courtyard staring at stars. She turned when Diona slipped out and moved on the perch of wall she had found so that Diona could climb upwards and take in the cool night air. Already winter seemed like distant memory. Time within the rebellion was always hard to tell. Had it not been for the passing of the seasons she would have no concept of it.

Diona stared upwards.

“It feels like a lifetime since we used to gaze through roof of villa and talk about the Gladiators we wished to spend our lives with” she said sagely.

“Yes” Naevia said softly. “And such harsh lessons we have had to learn along the way” She sighed. “You are staying with Spartacus”

“They way you have not phrased it as question tells me that you already knew that” Diona said quietly. “In the same way I knew you would follow Crixus”

“He is my soul, without him I am incomplete, shadow without life”

“And I feel the same way about Duro…at least…at least we got that happy ending for ourselves. Good men who would fight for us and love us and desire us above all things. Men who would never look away from us or treat us with disrespect.”

“Yes” Naevia said with small smile. “We have gained much in that respect. You gained more I think…”

Diona turned to her. “Do you?”

“You have children Diona” Naevia’s tone turned wistful. “So many men, so many tools and pain and damage, sometimes Crixus twists a little or thrusts a little too hard and I still feel phantom ache. And I know that carrying a child is something the Gods have not given me.”

“That does not mean you cannot have them. Freyja is not mine and I love her all the same, Duro is not Cecelija’s father and he would lay down life for her. If you succeed in your plan and take Rome perhaps you and Crixus can start a family of your own. Perhaps you will have children of your own body. After all if Lucretia could get something to grow inside her cunt you really have no excuse”

Neavia let out a cackle of laughter and Diona joined in. Naevia’s hand reached out and tangled in Diona’s.

“You are not the only one plagued by memories” Diona said finally once the laughing had died a death. “Duro cannot put his fingers near me without my seizing from memories of Cossutius. Even now. But I have come to accept the memories, they are a part of me but they do not define the path I am on. One day they will turn to ash as much as the man who inflicted them.”

“I wish I could share your thoughts and dreams for a future. And…and I offer apologies if I ever caused offense”

Diona grinned. “No apologies needed. I too said harsh words when yet a slave. But you were right, we did see each other again. I always thought it would be when one of us was about to die”

“You are cherished friend” Naevia said finally. “A sister in ways I cannot express with ease. Your friendship has sustained me especially within mines. Whatever happens, if we ever see each other again or if this is the last time we allow eyes to see the other’s in this life I am glad and proud to call you a friend Diona”

“And I you Naevia. Whatever happens when dawn comes. I am gratified that we found each other again”

Naevia wrapped an arm around her shoulders, Diona rested her head on them as she had done when the abuse had become too much to bear.

They stayed like that thinking upon the girls they had once been for a time too long to count.

The next day they took their goodbyes. Duro and Agron stayed close to each other for a time and Diona allowed them to say their goodbyes in private. The children had spent time with their uncle and were now saying goodbye to other children who would be leaving with their parents. Diona went to stand beside Naevia for the final time.

Naevia hugged her enfolding her in her arms. “May the Gods grant you a long and happy life with your husband and your children” she whispered.

“And a long and happy life with Crixus to you” Diona said hugging her back. “I hope to see you in this life again, if not in the next.”

They pulled back and then Naevia was gone and Diona took a shuddering breath and went in search of Duro. She caught Crixus’s eye and smiled at him. He nodded at her with ease and then turned away.

(It was though then she did not know the scope of it then, the last time she would see the man they called ‘The Undefeated Gaul’ alive)

Agron hugged both his nieces. To think that once he had not known how important they would become to the fabric of his life and now he felt as if he was leaving own children behind.

Freyja at least seemed to have some understanding of what was happening. Cecelija did not seem to grasp that this would be last time they laid eyes upon each other again. She turned to run towards friends leaving for rebellion and Agron turned to Freyja whose bottom lip was wobbling.

“Ah now” he said gently. “Warriors do not cry little one. You keep your chin up and your head high and remind yourself that you are the daughter of the bravest man that ever lived in Lands East of the Rhine”

Freyja nodded and then hugged him again.

“Gratitude for being the best Uncle ever” she said into his shoulder. Agron felt something break within chest. And he still had more partings to go through.

He allowed Freyja to go and then turned to see Diona watching him.

“Gratitude” he said simply taking her hand in his own. “For all you have done for him. Please…look after him”

“He is my soul” Diona said her voice quiet. “And I his. And we will miss you. Never think that we will forget you. And if you live…I expect you to let us know”

Agron laughed.

“Indeed. Or Rome’s wrath is not one I will fear and please…Nasir…”

“I consider Nasir brother” Diona said eyeing him with an air that told Agron she did not approve of his actions surrounding Nasir. “He will always have place at my table”

It was the best he could hope for all things equal. He kissed her on cheek and then walked away to find brother the knot in his chest easing as he thought of the life he had built that finally he would get to keep.

There were no words to be said between them. Whatever Duro could have said was known to them both. They just clasped hands and threw arms around each other in an embrace that hurt. They stayed there for a period of time and then with one final look into the green eyes that had been his stalemate for so many years, Duro allowed his brother to go and spend time with the man he had lost heart too before they separated in this life, to hopefully be reunited in the next.

The split from the rebellion took most of the morning but soon as night fell they knew paths would not cross again. Spartacus asked them to make camp and they did. Diona noticed many a weeping eye at separation but also a sense of contentment, excitement and peace as reality began to set in.

They were free. Free of fighting, free of running, free of danger. They could live together in peace. Spartacus could see his homeland again, Kore and Laeta could heal wounded souls, Gannicus and Sibyl could perhaps start their own family and marriage. And she and Duro were free to be together.

She tucked the girls into bed that night deciding that they should share tent despite cramped conditions. They were both sad over their uncle but Diona thought that once they were over the mountains they might like to have say in villa they would build.

She left them to mutter sleepily amongst themselves and went to find Duro who was wrapped in cloak and staring down the road to where Agron had gone.

He wrapped arm around her when he saw her and she leaned her head on his chest and felt the warmth of his skin against her own.

“Spartacus has elevated me to position of General” he said finally.

“And you will excel at that position” she said softly. “Agron would be prouder than he already is off you.”

Duro scoffed wiping hand across eyes. “I have no regrets over decision” he said softly. “You are my very existence. And a life with you and our daughters is all I dream off”

“I know” Diona acknowledged. “Who knows, perhaps we will hear news of Rome’s fall in our lifetime. But until then I should tell you that we might have to steal a villa rather than build one as our eldest wants a bath and our youngest wants a library”

“And I want rooms for all the other children” Duro said in satisfaction as they turned and walked back to the tent together, arms interlinked and hands intertwined.

“Oh all the other children?”

“Aye why not, why should we not have fucking everything”

Diona laughed feeling lighter than she had done in months. She pressed her lips to his and felt that stir of desire in her that once would have seemed impossible for her to experience. Duro smiled that impeccable, boyish smile that made her heart flutter.

After all she thought later that night, they were free men and women, why should they not be afforded the same opportunities as anyone else? Why should they not have chance to build a comfortable life for themselves free from cruelty and oppression and pain?

Why should they not have everything?

And now, well now they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always adored and I will see you soon for the update of Chapter 25!


	25. Motherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the cusp of freedom Duro and Diona receive news that changes their lives. Duro takes to the sands to honour his brother. 
> 
> Freyja and Henri share a little moment as they look towards a future and the rebellion takes a sharp turn throwing many lives and future plans into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is another chapter and we now only have two more chapters left of this story so I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> As always my disclaimers are the same and if you need a refresh please check any of the previous chapters especially about grammar, spelling and language. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think.

They had been sheltering on a ridge when the news hit the rebellion. 

There was a rider coming towards them dressed in Roman cloak. 

Duro who had been with Diona watching her cook upon fire and promising that in new homestead she would have proper cooking materials (as well as bath, library and silken sheets) had reached with ease for his sword. The rebels had become lapsed somewhat about carrying them since they had been split in two and if Duro was being honest with self the fact that Freyja had not picked up bow since Agron’s departure had been a source of deep pride and comfort. Anyhow any command to attend Spartacus’s tent was as such that he knew he would have to take sword to hip. 

Spartacus’s tent was shrouded in darkness. Nasir was outside it and Duro paused to give brotherly greeting but recoiled as when he looked at Nasir he saw tears etching upon face and eyes overshadowed with grief. Duro checked self. He had known Nasir had held Agron’s departure in much sorrow and in truth he had not spent time with him allowing Diona, Kore, Leata and Sibyl to instead ensure that comfort was met but there was something in his face that made him pause. 

Because deep down he knew there was only one reason for Nasir to look upon him with such sorrow. 

Ah. 

Agron. 

Duro felt something choke in his throat and he closed eyes. He did not think of brother but of wife and how he had left her stirring evening meal on a pot. Of Cecelija drawing her fingers stained with charcoal and Freyja lining up her jade and gold and ivory animals contemplating what she wanted to gain upon next taking of villa. He wanted to remember the smell of lavender and parchment and the musky sent of candles. 

He had known that this was coming. He had known it over a month ago when he had last said goodbye to brother. But still…he had also known that it would hurt deeply. 

He had not been wrong in that regard. 

He stepped past Nasir and into tent and was greeting with sight most surprising. 

Gannicus was stood at entrance, Spartacus kneeling at where his bed was and on the bed her eyes staring outwards within pale face, a shadow of the woman she had once been was Naevia. 

For a second Duro did not understand. Because surely there was very little on this earth that would see Crixus and Naevia separated. Duro might hold little love for either one of them (he was not as naïve as he suspected his wife might have wanted him to be when it came to _disagreement _that they had had within city walls) but he knew that for Crixus to disentangle himself from Naevia even for short separation then something serious must have taken place. 

And then his brain caught up with his heart when he saw the sack on the table. He crossed without thinking and yet somehow knowing what he was going to see when it was unveiled. He pushed back harsh cloth and found himself staring into the eyes of The Undefeated Gaul whose eyes would gaze no longer, whose mouth would not utter words, whose hands would never raise sword again and whose head had been parted from his body. 

Duro bent head and closed eyes. He was not naïve enough to know that this changed nothing. This changed everything. Gone was a future with Diona and his children. Gone was peace. Gone was everything. 

For he knew how this would end now. 

Had it not always been fated so? 

He turned to Naevia prone on the bed. 

“My deepest condolences for your loss” he said in the way of his own people. He received no reply nor had he expected any. 

“Who else is here?” he asked Spartacus. 

“Lugo is outside tent. Why?” 

“I would have him fetch Diona. Perhaps she would be of much needed comfort if you would be prepared to relinquish tent for the night” 

“Of course.” Spartacus said looking relieved upon receiving advice. “Diona can be of much needed comfort” 

“You will need to give up tent for night” Gannicus said under breath. 

“No matter” Spartacus said and Duro thought he might be imagining things but there was a pink tinge about their leaders ears. “Laeta will offer shelter within her tent” and then he was gone to speak to Lugo. 

Gannicus snorted. “And offer shelter within her parted legs” he said with shadow of former smile. 

Duro felt scoff inside him but resisted at the last moment. 

“Gannicus” he said finally. “Please tell me truth. Has Agron fallen?” 

Gannicus shot a look to Naevia but she said nothing and her eyes did not so much as flicker within direction. 

“Yes” he said finally. 

Duro closed eyes as the pain hit him. He had known this was coming and yet even now it was hard to take. Gannicus clapped him on shoulder. 

“He went in battle. He knew that was how this was going to end. He would have wanted nothing less” 

Duro nodded though words were hollow comfort. Even knowing that paths were to be diverted he had never considered possibility that Agron would loose life. He seemed to Duro all he had been in life. Alive. Vibrant. And if he was honest with self in this moment he knew that he had been dreaming of a day where he would take wife and children to Rome to meet Agron who would be victorious. 

“I know” he said finally biting down emotions. He could not show them in front of Gannicus as much as a brother as the other man was. “But it does not lesson loss” 

“It changes everything” Gannicus said finally as they left tent. “You cannot deny that you had plans before this” 

“No” Duro said. “And neither can you” 

“No I cannot. And while I might want to run I know I cannot” 

“I know my duty too” 

They stared out over the sunset two men who had both been granted the gift of love and the gift of battle and who had both chosen the former and they knew that any chance of happiness was taken from them with this foolish decision of Crixus’s to take and lose Rome. For it did not matter what happened now. Crassus without the distraction of a battle on Rome’s doorstep would turn and face them with half their army. 

“Tell Diona I have gone for walk. I will be back at tent before sundown and…can you have Sibyl stay with girls…and break news as gently as she can. I would not have them hear the news from strangers. And can she ensure they stay close to tent. Freyja in particular will know what this development entails” 

Gannicus nodded. “I will also send Kore to ensure that orphaned children are taken care off in Diona’s absence” he said and then he was gone and Duro forced feet to walk in another direction past rebels until he reached open clifftop. Somehow he had grabbed flask of wine and he sat there feet dangling over the edge of the world or so it seemed drinking and thinking about his brother who had lived and loved and lost and fought ever day of his life for something better than what this world had given him. 

Agron was dead. 

His brother was dead. 

Duro sat there for a long time looking out over the vast plains of land and feeling the slowly setting sun warm on his face. He didn’t move until it had completely hidden it’s sight from view and when he stood up on stiff limbs he found he was wiping his face as he left. 

Diona had been ensuring both her girls had stew when Lugo came to find her Kore in attendance wrapping shawl around upper shoulders. Lugo whispered within ear at what had taken place and while Diona would usually hurry to friends side she found that she needed to make stop before seeing to Naevia. 

Castus was within tent sharpening spear when she peeped head through. Diona was of a nature where she would at least try and be welcoming to rebels new to cause regardless of where past had originated. Kore was prime example of such regard. Duro however did not hold Castus as such and Diona had avoided tent simply out of desire to ensure peace held within her marriage bed. However she knew Castus had stock of a thing she dearly needed. 

“Castus” 

“Ah Diona” 

“I need favour if you have a sympathetic and secretive ear about you” 

Castus raised an eyebrow. 

“Crixus has fallen, Naevia returns alone and I wish to give her much needed comfort. But I fear for sleep to come tonight absent terrible memory she might need help. I hear you have hold much in that regard?” 

Castus blinked. “Crixus has fallen? That changes everything. Spartacus will have to turn army towards Crassus with only half the force he once held too” 

Diona had not seen it like that and the stark understanding robbed her breath. She staggered a little and Castus caught her helping her to the bed in corner of tent and warming her suddenly cold hands between his own. 

“Ah Diona, you did not know of such plans. I feared them common knowledge amongst any with a mind to strategy of war. My deepest apologies” 

Diona struggled to regain breath but she could not contemplate what this meant for her and Duro and the golden future that an hour ago they were in deep discussion about. Right now her friend, her comrade and her sister needed her attention. 

“No apologies needed” she said finally. “I only ask if you have what I need”

“I do” Castus said finally rummaging around and finding small vial. “Poppy seed oil will ensure Naevia slumbers tonight and if not the opium will do. I will do best to ensure more of it, I think I can grow recipe from seeds. I know the medicus has often of need of such a thing” 

Diona took both vials. “Gratitude” she said finally standing up. And then because she was never rebel to turn away from such things she said. “And for what it is worth I welcome you to rebellion. However it ends” 

Castus gave her small but genuine smile and then ducked his head looking less like pirate and more like boy. Diona took that as que to leave to go to Spartacus’s tent to where Naevia was. 

Naevia had been sat upon Spartacus’s bed her face like stone. Her hands were curled onto her lap and as Diona pushed past the curtain she saw on Spartacus’s table amongst the maps and the charts and the strange metal armour with a dolphin on it the head of Crixus, The Undefeated Gaul. 

She stared for a second in disbelief at what she was seeing. Despite everything she had learnt in this world the harsh way and the cruel way of taking each day as it comes, of surviving on little to nothing, despite knowing deep within her that there was really only one way this foolish plan of Crixus’s was going to end and yet she could not deny that his death was a shock to her. 

Naevia was still staring into space and Diona reached for the jug of amber liquid and the cup furthest away from the head of a man she had once known and poured Neavia a drink. She added the poppy powder for slumber in it’s dreamless form to call Naevia to its shores and then sat down. 

“Drink.” 

Naevia turned to look at her, her eyes wide in her face. Diona who had known grief in her life had to look away and knew that she was looking at her own future, perhaps it was worse, she at least had the distraction of children to take her from darkest thoughts. Naevia had no such blessing. 

“Drink” Diona said again firmly. “I am not going anywhere. There are no men, no gladiators, nobody but me and you. You can mourn him here and know I will keep secrets to heart. It is me Diona, Naevia.”

For a moment Naevia did not respond and Diona was suddenly filled with fear that she had forgotten how to speak, that grief had stripped her of reasoning as she had seen in many before her slaves and Roman’s alike. Then very slowly her eyes turned to face Diona. She took the cup and downed it in one and Diona turned to place it to side and then enfolded Naevia’s bloodstained hands in her own. Naevia’s eyes slowly began to fill with tears and then rather than sobbing her heart out she began to make little noises and Diona understood. 

Her heart was breaking and yet Naevia could not cry. She could not see tears fall because she knew that if they did then that was it and she would fall to wave upon wave of pain. She was choosing to choke down her emotions and Diona understood why because for Naevia now there was nothing but blood and battle and the second she allowed herself to feel once heartbeat of the void that Crixus’s death had caused her she would crumble like parchment turned to ash in the wind. 

Now all she had was her desire for blood and battle. 

Diona took care of shoes for both of them and then turned Naevia on her side and wrapped her arms around her so that her back was against Diona’s chest and they were still holding hands. She rocked dearest friend back and forth as tremors of a grief so great ran through her. After an age the poppy kicked in and she fell to slumber tears leaking from eyelids. Realising dearest friend for moment Diona padded to doorway of tent on bare feet finding Lugo sharpening sword. 

“I will spend night with Naevia” she said quietly. “Can you ensure Duro has comfort?” 

Lugo nodded and patted her upon arm. Diona turned around and reached for the vial of opium. She placed three drops onto spoon and measured it into wine. She had done this before for Lucretia and Gaia many, many moons ago. She had never partaken in the drug herself. Powered drugs had made a trade beneath roof of mines and she had seen many rebel take them even before they were slaves but she thought that if she had succumbed to this then there was no hope of anything better for her daughter. 

But now she drank the laced wine greedily and then went to enfold Naevia in embrace again and she cried with her not for The Undefeated Gaul or for her brother in law Agron but for the future that just an hour ago she had been discussing with her husband that had now been cut short by the promise of one final battle and the death that stalked the rebellion as if dog upon their heals.

“Gladiator games?” 

“Yes. Gladiator games.” 

Lugo had told him idea of Spartacus when he had returned to tent. He had curled up within blankets and had allowed himself one night to wallow in the loss of Agron. Now mid-afternoon was upon them and he had not been aware of time’s passing until man had come to him. 

“Diona is with Naevia brother. She has remained there for some time but I believe she will be dispatched to your arms soon. And we take up arms against Roman men who have taken our brothers and sisters from us.” He patted Duro upon shoulder and then left him standing there. 

The tent flap opened and Diona entered. Duro tried to find the words to tell her his emotions. The loss of Agron, the agony of defeat, the crushing weight of their plans that had come crashing down amongst them and the fact that he would have to leave to fight again and this time there would be no reunion with their daughters and his wife. He wanted to tell her that he could not turn from this battle as much as heart and soul wanted too. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry but that he had known at some point it would come to this. That he loved her, that he loved her with a passion that consumed his very soul and essence. 

Diona had never really needed to hear any of that from him. She had known that since she had heard news and she took his hand letting him rest her head against her shoulder for a time without sharing words. 

“Apologies” he said finally his voice thick with tears. 

“No need” Diona said softly. “I know who you are, and I love you for it. And I have lived a life with a great love. And I will live on even if days are dimmed and joyless” 

“If I am to fall I want you to marry someone else” the words stuck in his throat and raised bile within them but he knew they had to be said. 

“I will never marry again” Diona said with certainty and Duro was coward enough to know that he could not argue with her. “So we will not have discussion about it. Do the girls know what has taken place?” 

“Aye” Duro said snatching upon change of subject greedily. “And they know. I had Kore tell them as gently as she could. Malia has taken them with other children to see the Roman’s being brought in. We are having games. Crassus’s son the one who saw Crixus to the afterlife has been captured. Spartacus I believe will give him to Naevia. I have been asked to fight for Agron’s memory.” 

“And you will see to it that brother’s memory is awash with blood and battle just as he would have lived within life” Diona said soothingly. Duro nodded his hand finding hers as they lay there on the pillows of their tent. He found that he wanted to say things but he was scared of answers he would receive. Time had now ran out and these moments, these quite little moments were precious. 

Freyja had found him sharpening arrow heads to be stuck on arrows. A simple task for younger members of the rebellion was to go through the arrows collected at end of battle from both sides and discern weather or not they were fit for purpose. Henri was sharpening one with bright eyes when Freyja came to sit with him. 

“Luc will make final stand against Rome” he said shortly. 

“As will my father” Freyja said just as shortly. She reached to gather the arrows but before she could she was overwhelmed with the desire to do something that even for her was rather…radical…

She kissed him on the cheek. It was nothing more than what he had done in Sinuessa but she felt better all the same. 

Henri turned to look at her but Freyja was already back to sorting through arrowheads determined to focus on her task at hand and therefore she missed the rather pleased smile etched upon his face. 

She suspected there would be time for words later. 

The camp seemed almost heightened to a new frenzy over games. Diona had seen atmosphere charged before battle many times but she had never seen it charged like this. Too many had suffered, has lost loved ones and even if they were not taking to the sands there was the promise of wine and a good show. 

She was going in spite of herself. She had never gone to the games. Melitta and Naevia the two body slaves had seen them many times but Diona who had if she was being kind to herself, been a house slave (and a whore if she was being unkind) she had seen many men fight Romans but she had never seen what it was like inside the arena, where there was nothing than a single purpose to kill. She was torn between utter horror at the gory sight and excitement at what she was going to see. 

It would have been easier to keep wild horses away than it would have been the children. Her own two plus the rest of the orphaned children from Malia and Luc at the eldest, through to Annalise, Petyr, Johann down to the youngest of Navi and Anikia at four and three were thrilled at chance to see Romans fall to deserved fate. Diona was not pleased that younger children were coming but Petyr his hands full with his cat told Diona that Annalise was no fan of gory sight and would at some point take younger children back to tent. 

They took positions at the bottom step of makeshift arena. Freyja curled up next to her and Cecelija on her lap her head on her shoulder. Sibyl was with Laeta her legs dangling over side and Laeta sat in way that Diona had seen many a Roman girl taught to sit by many a Roman mother. Kore was sat on the other side of her, her back ramrod straight and Diona reached out behind Frejya’s back and touched Kore on the shoulder indicating the woman should move closer. 

“I saw my rapist fall too” she said quietly. “You will feel emotions, many and you will not understand it. Come to tent if you wish or find comfort but do not be alone when emotions hit you” 

Kore nodded but her eyes were back on the field and she seemed to be poised, waiting for the inevitable. Diona wanted to tell her that it would not bring her complete peace—she had learnt that the hard way—but there was a roar of the crowd and she allowed herself to take cup of wine from Sibyl and watched as her husband, armour shining, sword sharpened to a dangerous gleam stood there listening to the roar of the crowds. Diona watched him and felt her heart heave as she looked at him. She did not know how she was supposed to turn on him and leave him and live the rest of her life without him. A soldiers wife she may be, this reality she had known might one day be her own but she had never really considered what it meant before. 

She had always supposed that Duro would survive. 

Spartacus took to the sands and Diona pulled herself away from darkened thoughts to watch. She could see why he had achieved all credited to him. Spartacus had a skill unlike any other. He seemed to thrive as did many of the cheers and the roars of the crowd even if this had not been path he had wanted. He was a gladiator and a man and his smile was genuine as he took control dominating single combat. 

Gannicus was easier to watch because Diona had seen him fight. She knew Gannicus, knew the cocky smile and the way with women even if Sibyl had tempered desire for mass fornication. She knew that he came alive as he fought, that he did it with such an ease it was natural and she found she was smiling at him, the boy she had used to daydream on the balcony about clearly preforming for the pleasure of one woman, happiness something he had thought he would never get or deserve to get and yet he had managed to achieve.

Duro entered next. He too was fighting two men. He used one sword but unlike his brother did not use shield. He fought in style similar to Naevia as if one weapon was simply another limb that he could utilise. He did something with his hand as steel clashed dropping sword catching it and shoving it in one Roman’s stomach. He then still clutching sword in stomach elbowed the second in the face, ripped out sword and then blood flying cut the throat of the other Roman before bending down and cutting until head was removed from shoulders. He looked up face dripping with blood and Diona felt herself grin despite gory sight. He caught her eyes light in them that she would never understand but had long ago accepted came with loving a man of blood and battle and when he stood up he pointed sword at her his other hand curled in a fist upon chest Diona grinned laughing as she pulled the girls whose roars of appreciation was lost in the crowd. Duro was here telling the whole world that he loved her, that he fought for her and that he would be loyal to her until the end of his life. Gently she copied the motion and was rewarded with the smallest smile, soft eyes and a very hard kiss before Cecelija and Freyja were being pulled close to side as if Duro could not bare to let them go. 

Diona had to look away for a moment as Saxa and Lugo took to field of mock battle and took cup of wine offered by Malia. She took a gulp and felt the colour rise to her cheeks with the strength of the wine and emotions rising rapidly. Duro reached behind her and took a hold of her hand for a second and Diona knew that she could not break down over the sting of loss when the man was so very present. She smiled and told self sternly that she was to enjoy celebration. 

The fights continued until Nasir stepped in. She noticed Spartacus in conversation with Naevia and Annalise come down stone steps. She had taken younger children to tents but Diona had not expected her to come back knowing the girl did not enjoy gory sight. Instead of coming to sit down with the rest of her friends she tapped Gannicus on the shoulder and whispered something in ear pointing guard. Diona watched as Gannicus turned to stare whispering harshly and then pushed himself to feet catching Duro’s eye and jerking head as if to follow. Duro got to feet and pressed kiss to Freyja’s head, winked at Diona and then followed. Spartacus followed shortly. 

Cecelija stretched a little. “Annalise” Diona called and girl came over. “Take Cecelija back to tent, and Ivar, Jessa and Cordelia” she said pointing out children nearing sleep or looking a little sick to stomach. That left Luc, Malia, Henri, Freyja, Johann and Petyr sitting there watching as Nasir killed his man and Naevia took to the sands as the son of Crassus came into the light. 

Diona was taken about by the sight of him. She had expected a man, a great giant of a man who had taken down The Undefeated Gaul, she had not expected boy. He looked barely older than Luc and she could see fear etched in his eyes. For a heartbeat she felt something that might have been a twinge of sympathy but then she thought of all this boy had achieved since joining a war. The deaths that were attributed to his name, the loss of her best friend who since the death of her heart become substance and shadow, the loss of Agron and how that affected Duro, the rape of Kore. And the knowledge that because of this child she was due to lose her husband in passing days to needless slaughter. 

“Naevia” she called and her friend turned. 

“Fucking kill him” she said. For a moment Naevia stared at her and Diona thought she saw the shadow of a smile on her face before her eyes became strangely blank and she prepared herself for battle. Diona only hoped that she did not lose herself to emotions…otherwise she feared the boy might win. 

She watched leaning back on her hands to see where Duro was. Naevia was good but so (and she hated to admit it) was the boy. He had a skill even if it was sloppy. Would he have lasted against more discerning gladiators no. But Naevia had never held mantle of gladiator. She could not hide her emotions. 

And then just as she was about to deliver fatal blow Spartacus appeared and offered a reprieve to everyone who had lost someone in the battle for Rome and whose loved ones had been taken prisoner. 

It was a trade that benefited everyone but Naevia. 

And there was really no choice to be made. 

Duro had gone with Spartacus at instruction. Spartacus had seen Kore to the saddle of Ceaser’s horse both of them under silent opinion the woman deserved more than to be bound and chained for killing a man who had caused both Roman and slave much strife. 

The prisoners had started to come shortly after sunset. Some shuffled, some limped, all were beaten. He saw Malia help woman with dazed look on her face and blood on her legs and had to look away. He did not expect Agron to survive. Even if blow had not proved fatal as Naevia had thought it was he knew that as a General, Crassus would want to make example out of brother. 

Spartacus went to great rebels that he knew and offer help to those suffering. Duro shook himself out of thoughts and moved to follow brother and offer much needed aid. 

And then against the backdrop of the setting sun, Duro saw him. For a time he stood there unable to believe that eyes were not playing tricks upon him and then he found that feet were able to move and he was pushing aside many others until finally, _finally, _he had his brother back in his arms again. 

Agron was yet of the living. 

Fuck the Gods. 

Duro did not know how they kept doing this but somehow against impossible odds, the two brothers from Lands East of the Rhine kept surviving. It was a thought that baffled mind and yet he could not stop self smiling at it’s very presence festering within brain. 

Agron sagged against him and Duro pressed him close feel the small shudders that Agron did best to hide. Duro pulled back hands framing his brother’s face as the one eye that was not swollen shut opened and stared at him. 

He looked _defeated_. 

His eye was swollen shut, there was a bruise on his face that showed he had been hit with something like shield. He was walking unevenly bare feet upon ground and there was something about way he held hands that made Duro reach for them showing palms to the sky. He stared at them assessing the damage and then Agron pulled away eyes closing. Duro felt a roar of rage swell up in him. 

They had crucified his brother. 

They had stuck him up on a fucking cross and had placed nails through hands knowing that it would cost him his ability to fight. 

Agron looked at him eye closing again and Duro wondered if he had looked this defeated when he had been rescued from mines. 

“Brother” he said finally. 

“Duro” Agron said softly and then he was looking away and Duro knew it was to hide tears gathering in eye. 

“The Gods return you too us.” Duro said simply wrapping his arms around him so he could stabilise his walking. 

“Nasir will be pleased” 

That seemed to have opposite effect on Agron who stiffened. “He deserves better” he muttered. Duro scoffed. 

“Try that line of fucked reasoning and see how he takes it” he said and Agron managed a small flicker of a smile. 

If they were both blinking back tears as they approached tent then neither one of them commented on it. There was no need. There were no words to be passed between them. They were brothers. 

The clearing where only hours ago had been filled with cheering and roaring of the crowd was now silent. Five hundred had returned but many had not and many had fallen before prisoners taken. Diona was stood next to the children, Freyja was wearing a black sash around her hair that was braided down to her elbow and Ceceilja was using it to keep hair up off face. It was longer now than it had been in mines, down to the small shoulder blades that no longer stuck out as if she was starving child but were full and her skin clear no longer stained with mud. 

She had done that, she had carried her child into this world and out of hell and into a world where she knew freedom. She had no brand unlike Freyja, she had no mark or blemish, she had never known chains around her ankles as she had done or what it was like to be assaulted against your will but to have no will at all. 

She had done that. 

Nobody could take that away from her. 

Spartacus was speaking, paying tribute to the dead they had lost and all the names were being shouted to the heavens. Oenomaus, Mira, Varro, Sura, Nemetes, Donar, Diotimous, Bara, Pietros…

“Melitta” she said without warning because it was true. Gannicus shot her a look but she detected no malice in it, instead only understanding. 

Nasir muttered name under breath from where he and Duro were half propping up Agron but the moniker of lost brother was drowned out by Luc, Malia, Annalise, Petyr, and others orphans shouting out names of parents, siblings, loved ones and lives they had been ripped apart. Freyja tilted her head to the side as if she was deciding something and then as there was lull in silence before she said one word. 

“Marijana” 

Diona turned to stare at her and then she turned to fix gaze upon husband who raised one eyebrow and then shrugged shoulder. They both had inkling about who Marijana was and neither one of them had ever pushed Freyja into conversation about her previous life nor would they ever had done so. Offering a name was Diona hoped the first step for her eldest daughter understanding and communicating about the life she had once lived, the harsh penalties she had suffered for being born and the woman she had once called mother. 

Diona could only hope. 

She looked up as the flames beat into the sky and stared at the stars penetrating downwards from the heavens. She caught Duro’s stare and knew there were tears in her eyes and she knew that despite everything that was coming, the pain and the heartbreak she would always be grateful for this time when she went back to her tent and undressed and made love to her husband and enjoyed one more golden night of peace in the arms of Duro of Lands of East of the Rhine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I wish you all great health and happiness, I will do my best to publish the next chapter soon. 
> 
> Feedback as always is greatly appreciated.


	26. Fire In The Belly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle begins against Rome. 
> 
> As Duro and Agron, Nasir, Naevia, Spartacus, Gannicus, Saxa, Lugo, Castus, Luc, Johann and many more rebels take to the open ground to fight for the final time, Diona stays upon ridge with other rebels as an agonising wait begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is the second to last chapter, the note here is gonna be short and sweet as this was a chapter I really struggled with. I hope you enjoy it either way. 
> 
> Disclaimers as always on characters, apologies for spelling, grammar and language. 
> 
> As always Trigger Warnings for this chapter and this story.

Looking back in the days, the weeks or even the years to come after Diona could not say that she remembered the following two weeks. Every day had been spent assisting rebel armies. They had taken to sharpening sticks due to plan born out of Spartacus’s fevered mind. They had taken to packing supplies and seeing to weapons, the villas that they took were not used in comfort but for necessity and it seemed that every day as moon crested sky only to be replaced by sun ever rebel got a little more reckless and a little sadder as time began to finally run out.

The days of the temple seemed so far away, when Glaber had seemed like the only Roman they need concern themselves with and the sun had been beating down on them as they had slept in the open and trained in the sun and the only concern Diona had was weather or not she could make love to the strangest man she’d met who made her feel alive and had smile to rival fucking son.

She was not upset over hour of parting. The heartbreak she knew would come each day. She had gotten used to the loss—sometimes she knew that death and loss and pain followed her as if it was her friend and her confidant. The loss of Duro would cripple her but she was a soldiers wife and the mother of his children and Diona lay awake the day before inevitable parting and knew that she could survive the parting.

And if her heart was breaking at the thought of each day without Duro then that was her cross be laid upon.

If Duro thought anything about it he conveyed nothing only his smile got a little dimmer and he spent more time with the girls than before as if soaking in all of their joy and energy and life.

It did not help matters that he would be facing this battle alone.

Diona had known that Agron had been deliberately crucified in order to send message to Spartacus. Two Generals down, one dead and one crippled for life. Never again would Agron hold sword and Diona knew that for a man who had once proclaimed that there was nothing for him but blood and battle that was a mortal blow from which he could never recover from. Pride too was damaged beyond repair because he could not fight alongside dearest brother and dearest love either. Nasir and Duro were both destined to die.

And there was nothing that Diona or Agron could do to stop that.

The morning of the last day before parting carried out with only one small issue.

Malia came to tell her as Duro was leaving to assist Spartacus that she could not fight in upcoming battle as she was with child.

“Luc’s?” Diona said grimly knowing it to be true. Malia nodded her hands on the flatness of her belly that was barely curving beneath dress. Her face was a bit rounder and her tits fuller than before and Diona wondered how long she had been hiding condition.

“He wanted to stay but I know him and I know he will not forgive self for staying behind even for child. And I love him enough to let him go and do this. Diona I know this might indicate that I have lost all sense but I feel like this piece of our love growing inside of me will give me strength on darkest nights if he does not survive this. And Henri will come full circle. He will now be older brother to younger boy. But they will be free”

There was something in her words that told Diona that Malia would not be swayed by any intentions. It was hard to imagine that the girl was only sixteen. She seemed much older than her years she had graced this world. When Diona had been of such an age children and freedom and a place beyond Rome had never been her concern. All her concern had been tied up in had been her next meal, weather or not Domina would allow her to rip her dress a bit more to show her breasts and which gladiator to wink at when she was upon balcony.

“If that is what you desire Malia, you are free to have it. You and Luc both. And you will be a wonderful mother to that child when it enters the world” she gave small smile and Malia stopped looking like she was entering the arena and looked more like a girl of sixteen years.

“How much pain is involved when the child actually comes?”

Diona just laughed.

Duro had left tent after strategizing with Spartacus. The new plan saw Naevia on Spartacus’s left manning the left flank and him doing the same on the right. It would feel strange going into this battle without Agron. Wherever their position where one brother had been the other would have been stood there as well side by side, swords gripped in hands thirsting for death.

Now that would never happen again.

And Duro’s hatred of the Roman’s knew no bounds.

But it did provide an opportunity of sorts.

And so he went to see Agron. It was not hard to find him in tent he shared with Nasir. His brother was running one fingertip down sword. He looked up forlorn expression turning to plastered smile that would be false to everyone who knew him.

“Nasir is not with you?”

“He has gone to help make preparations for ensuring battle. He has been taken with such most days…I do not think he plans to spend much time with a man who cannot lift sword these days. Or touch him in ways that he used too”

“I am sure Nasir loves you still” Duro said sitting down upon floor next to him. “And I have to ask something of you and I do not want to think of you and Nasir in entanglement as I struggle to find words”

Agron looked at him and Duro ploughed on with conversation.

“If I should fall, which I think we both know is more than likely, I would have you see to Diona and my children. Stay a part of their lives. Ensure my daughters pick good men to be their husband and…and…though she says she will not do it, make sure Diona has your blessing and mine if she chooses to remarry”

Agron looked at him and Duro could see the despair etched within every last line of his face. The reality of it all it seemed had come crashing down upon dearest brother about the loss that this final stand with Rome would entail.

“Agron” Duro said softly because he was not prepared to listen or to plead or to beg. He wanted this conversation over with because to ask this of his brother was pain upon pain. He wanted to go to tent and spend meal with his children and then take his wife to bed and memorize every inch of her before he had to leave.

“Please”

Agron watched him for a second his chin wobbling and then nodded looking away to gain control of emotions. Duro reached out to grab elbow. After a small pause Agron leaned head against his shoulder in a small measure of comfort. Duro remembered on passage over he had done the same thing. But it had been Agron giving comfort not wanting to receive it. And Duro knew that his brother would do as he had asked.

“Gratitude”

And there was nothing more than needed to be said between the two of them.

They stayed like that for a long time.

That night dinner was a quiet affair. Diona was under the impression that the girls did not want to think about what tomorrow would bring.

And then Cecelija after looking at her sister decided to speak up.

“We wanted to give gratitude. Or I did. Freyja did not think you would want it”

Duro put down his spoon.

“For what?”

“For this” Freyja said finally. She looked up and her eyes were shining. “For us. For rescuing us from mines, for taking you with us, for the cart and all that happened in between. For loving us like your own even though we are not blood. You did not have to do that but you did” she gave a small shrug again and looked down.

Duro stared at them both with an unreadable expression and then he passed Diona his bowl and opened his arms.

“Come here” he said softly.

They both scrambled too him and he hugged them close saying things into their hair and over the small choking noises of emotion and Diona had to look away because she would not spoil their last night together by sobbing now.

She cleaned away pots and bowls as Duro put girls to bed in tent next to theirs. She did not comment on the length of time that he spent with them. When he opened flap of tent she could see the cost that saying goodbye to them had taken from him. She stayed there watching him for a second as he took of armour and sword drinking in man that he was so she could remember him in as much detail as her mind would allow her.

“Diona” he said finally but Diona shook her head.

“I do not need words” she said opening her arms. “I need you”

Duro crossed the room bare feet padding on the furs and then pulled her into his arms. His kiss was bruising and fiercely passionate. Diona shed herself of dress as Duro lifted her up so that her feet bare due to being in tent wrapped around small of back. Duro deposited her on the floor as their mouths moulded together.

His hand slid down her stomach like he was learning the very bones of her and she slid her hands across his shoulders and into his hair as his other hand went to her leg so he could lift it. They did not tease each other, there would be time for that later as the night wore on. Right now they were for feeling each other and then when Duro slid into her and his mouth found hers it was like the night before any battle, fast and furious and as Diona felt her pleasure mount she found that she could pretend even to self that this was a normal battle with strong chances of success and Duro would come back to her.

She clung to him all night.

Dawn woke her and even then they were connected having fallen to slumber with Duro still in her, still on top of her and she felt him move as light woke him too and instead of moving away from him her hands went to arse and she clung on wanting to feel him within her for days, wanting to feel him burrow his way under her skin, in her body and her bones and into her soul.

They did not pull apart until they had too.

They said nothing at all.

There was nothing to say.

Words could not be formed to say what they both knew. It did not matter anymore. Nothing fucking mattered anymore.

Duro had disappeared for conversation with Spartacus and then had returned with Agron still looking like he should be resting in bed but now with shield clutched in hand. He was clearly going to fight and Diona acknowledged what this small mercy must mean for her brother by marriage.

She turned to see Naevia stood by Spartacus looking oddly lonely amongst the sea of couples saying goodbye. Diona went to stand next to her and took her hand in her own. They had said goodbye to the other so many times it mattered not that this was the last time but Diona felt Naevia squeeze her hand back all the same. There was nothing more to be said. Indeed so many of the partings had been said when Crixus had departed west for Rome.

Duro came to stand next to her as Spartacus spoke alongside the children. Diona listened in a daze thinking only of how this man who had come across the seas in chains had done this. Had challenged so many ideas that both slaves and Romans had held dear and even if he was defeated in the coming days she suspected that he had started something that would upon a day see Rome crumble. Never again would a master think that they were totally safe in their beds and never again would a slave think there was no other option than submitting. The arrogance of the Romans spoke of their inevitable downfall and though she did not expect it to be within her lifetime Diona knew that she would revel in it’s destruction.

She touched Spartacus on the elbow and tried to communicate everything she had ever felt towards him in one touch. Her respect for him and his actions, her gratitude for her life, for her children, her admiration…all of it…however she doubted he did not even see her. She thought looking upon the wonder in his eyes as people lined up to touch a part of the man who had given them the simplest thing that was beyond many of their understanding that Spartacus had never fully comprehended just what he had achieved when he had laid one villa to ruin over the memory of his wife. Now he was seeing it. Now he was seeing his legacy.

She hugged Luc and Johann. Henri clung to his brother but seemed to understand what was happening. Luc kissed Malia and then kissed her stomach and then he was gone. Lugo shot one forlorn look at Freyja and then turned upon heal too and Gannicus after several moments of consideration bent the knee to her eldest and held out small knife. Freyja said nothing as she took it but flung her arms around him and Gannicus hugged her small smile on face as if he was finally at peace regardless of the outcome of the day.

Duro hugged both of the children and then he kissed her. Diona kissed him back breathing him in as he pressed another kiss on her nose.

“Whatever happens” Duro said quietly. “You have saved me. And my heart will be yours until the day you join me in the afterlife.”

“And I yours. Wait for me?”

“You will never look for me and find me gone. Even in death”

He kissed her again and then he was gone and Diona watched as they walked away. She watched Malia her face streaked with tears gather the children. Henri walked with Freyja his back straight but his eyes over bright. Annalise holding Diana’s baby as Petyr carried his cat. Sibyl and Belsa helping Diana who was still weak after baby’s birth.

Leata touched her arm. Diona nodded and turned her back on husband, dearest friend, rebellion leader and many she called brother and sister and turned to the mountains, to freedom.

She did not look back for if she did she knew she was lost.

Her heart she feared was breaking.

But somehow she managed to put one foot in front of the other and if Laeta wrapped an arm around her so Diona could attempt to gain silent shaking sobs under control well…that was between herself and the mercifully silent red haired woman who walked with her.

The battle had turned to shit within moments.

Duro had fought many battles but never one like this.

Lugo had fallen to fire, Castus to spear in chest and then Johann to spear in gut. He had fallen backwards and Duro had just a chance to see surprise etch on his face before it went blank.

Luc was fighting ahead and Duro moved to join him but it was clear that the scale of the Roman army was growing. He could see Agron ahead of him but could not get to him and he had lost track of how many hours they had been fighting and how many men he had killed.

He cut the head off one Roman coming towards him and then stabbed another pulling sword out of gut just in time to kill another one.

He was tired already. He was tired of this, of the constant bloodshed and fighting and death and decay that surrounded him. Battles had always excited him and had brought out the boy, the warrior he had been. He did not feel this. Just the knowledge that death was coming, there would always be one more Roman. He did not want the glory of victory anymore but instead he wanted the peace of his own bed, his wife in his arms and a world where one day he would never have to pick up weapon again.

He thought as he killed another Roman earning himself a cut to the shoulder in process, that this was what growing up was like.

Luc was next to him and then he was not.

Duro staggered to get to him slipping slightly. The boy had caught sword across chest blood bubbling at mouth.

“Henri” he said coughing.

“Diona will see him well cared for” Duro said as battle raged around him. “And he understands. So does Malia. So will your child”

Luc gurgled more blood and then he did not. The life left his body quietly and Duro placed the body of the boy not much older than he had been when he had been placed in chains down on the muddy, bloody floor and left him there as the carnage carried on around him.

He was aware that Agron was there. He was tugging on his arm but Duro was too tired and too weary of blood and battle to notice until Agron shouted at him.

“We must go, Spartacus requires assistance”

He pushed Duro away from the bodies scattered across the field of battle and Duro with renewed purpose slashed and stabbed and thrusted until they got to the outer edge of the battle where Nasir was waiting with horses. Duro thrusted himself into one and then he was following Agron though he was so tired he was amazed that he could sit upright.

He noticed the scale of the battle for the first time on horseback and felt something in him break within. How they managed to slip away unknown he did not know but suddenly he was at cliff top and he was being pushed upwards towards more bodies and the sound of clashing steal.

And then he saw.

Spartacus had fallen.

And Duro knew that the rebellion that had given so many so much and had scared the senate in Rome, that had reunited him with brother and given him wife and children and had so many people below them dying for the right to be free, was over.

Diona had been sat at cliff’s edge. Many of the rebels had gone forwards and yet more had stayed behind. Hundreds would escape Rome and only a small sighting of Pompey’s troops had been sighted. Diona knew about his reputation, she knew that he was given the name Butcher for a reason. But she could not give thought to that.

They were to stay until nightfall and then she would know he was not coming back.

Diana was slumbering on Sibyl’s shoulder the younger girls lips moving constantly in prayer. Laeta was sat with one of the younger girls in her lap humming softly. Malia was sat leaning against a tall rock her hand stroking her flat belly her eyes unfocused. Henri was with Freyja sharpening his bow though it was clear that he was unfocused. The baby was in Annalise’s arms again her finger curled around the edge of the blanket. The soft look on her face told Diona that perhaps the one girl who was the quietest of all the orphans who had come under her charge was indeed the one who had harboured dreams that Diona could understand. She watched Petyr sit next to her and thought perhaps within the end of the month they would be courting and perhaps within the end of the year a marriage would be discussed.

Diona sighed stroking Cecelija’s hair from when daughter had placed head in lap. It was a sight so reminiscent from mines she had to close thoughts to that memory too. She had been absent Duro for no more than hours and already she felt as if mind was slipping through grasp as if grains of sand trapped in fingers.

Suddenly there was noise, the sound of horses.

“Survivors” Freyja hissed standing upwards. Diona threw a hand out to stop her daughter from impulsive actions. She waited until she could see faces.

There were two gladiators she knew by sight alone both bleeding, Nasir his face streaked with mud and loss and blood helping down a man from the saddle who was clearly injured beyond the fixing in this life, Agron his eyes blown wide and then…and then…

“Father!” It was Cecelija who screamed and she ran uncaring of the blood and the shit and the exhaustion that was etched upon Duro’s face. Duro caught her around the middle sword dropping to ground and then Freyja was there. Diona stared at him with wide eyes.

Duro was alive.

Duro was alive.

Duro was alive.

Her mind was screaming the words at her and yet she could not comprehend how she had been granted this extraordinary gift from the Gods.

Duro was alive.

Leata caught her just as her knees were about to give away and Diona grasped her hand for support as she slowly stood again.

Duro pulled himself away from the children and then reached for her hand.

“We have lost” he said shortly. “Rebellion is over”

“Naevia?” Diona asked though she knew the answer to question before she had already spoken last words.

“She was aiding Gannicus at other side of battle. I did not see them but I believe she has probably passed from this world, and Gannicus and Saxa and Lugo and…”

“And Johann and Luc” Malia said her voice stronger despite words uttered. Duro turned to her breaking their gaze and nodded. Malia said nothing her eyes filling with tears she blinked rapidly away. Henri scrubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Was he in pain?” he asked quietly. Duro shook head. “He fell quickly and with little suffering. Considering what Crassus will do to the survivors I should think it a kindness.”

Henri snorted but said nothing else. He turned and walked to edge of cliff looking out over the edge of the mountains. Malia said nothing but she wiped her fingers under her eyes. Sibyl took her hand her own eyes wet with tears.

“He awakes” came a voice and Diona jumped a little. She did not even recall Agron’s presence. She followed Duro and gave a small gasp.

It was Spartacus.

He was covered in dirt and blood and it was clear he was near the end. Agron was clutching his hand and Diona knelt down near his feet. His blue eyes were hazy with pain and she knew trying to get him back on a horse was pointless. The rebellion was finished and Spartacus was dying.

Agron said something and Spartacus replied. He confessed that there was nothing better than to fall from this world as he had entered it, a free man. Diona wiped her eyes but the tears were coming steadily now. Spartacus confessed that the moniker he bore that had inspired so many to challenge the very essence of the world was not his name and now, after so long, after so much pain and misfortune and loss and grief and agony he was going to hear it again in the arms of his wife in a reunion he had been living each passing day towards.

And Diona understood. She understood that because up until a few moments ago that had been her. It had been Naevia waiting for reunion with Crixus. How Nasir had been when he had thought Agron gone from this world. Oenomaus and Melitta. The sun which had been shining brightly in their eyes faded and with it the spirit and the life and the soul of a man who had changed the world and would forever be remembered by history in a way that the men he had defeated would not.

Spartacus was gone.

Agron placed gentle kiss upon former friends brow and muttered something Diona could not hear and then as if the heavens were acknowledging the other name this extraordinary man had been given when he had killed the Shadow of Death, it began to rain.

They buried him there on the mountains using Agron’s shield to remember him by. It was no fitting end to a man who had done so much. Diona remembered the funerals held at the House of Battiatus and the fighting, the slaves all in black, the wine that flowed and the celebrations of life mixed in with mourning for days afterwards. She thought that Spartacus who had done more since becoming a slave than most Roman’s achieved in a lifetime deserved more, much more than what he had gotten. But the same could be said of Crixus, Naevia, Luc, Lugo, Saxa, Gannicus, Johann, Mira, Donar, Barca, Nemetes, Oenomaus, Melitta, Castus, and the hundreds more who had given their lives so that one day others might live free.

And then they were moving over the mountains. The children scarpered along with friends, Diana with Laeta and Sibyl the latter still wiping her tears, Annalise her arms around Malia who at last giving way to her grief and her loss and the loss for her child and Diona turned backwards for one last look on the man buried beneath the rocks, her gaze going West to where the battle had taken place, to where so many had fallen, to where Naevia and Gannicus had died, to where Saxa had been stabbed and Luc and Johann had been ripped from this world before they had really gotten chance to enjoy it, to where Kore was meeting certain death for her crime of running away from her rapist. And before that to where the House of Batiatus had laid in ruins, to the arena that was still she imagined smouldering and the death of her past. The past that had led her to this moment here, alive beyond all her wildest expectations.

There was so much she was leaving behind, memories, friends, enemies and pain, mixed with the good. Never again would she return to Roman soil.

She knew she would not miss Rome for even the smallest of seconds. She would remember the good memories, Naevia, Melitta, Spartacus, the orphans who had come under her care, and the strange little girl who had come with a man with green eyes who had burned through her giving life to former shell.

“Diona” Duro muttered and she turned, turning her back on Rome and the girl in the villa, the woman in the mines and the rebel she had been this morning. Now she was someone different. Duro smiled at her underneath the grime. There would be time for kisses and making love. After all now they had all the time that the world had to offer. Instead she took his hand and followed Agron and Nasir, her children and the rest of the rebels over the hill and into the rocky terrain below, free from Roman soil, free from Roman hands and free from the shadow of Rome.

Agron was right one day Rome would fall and crumble. For now. Diona was free.

Such a small word with such promises.

And with that lingering thought, she followed her husband and her children looking forwards to every moment it entailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is welcomed, I will endeavour to update soon with the final chapter and I wish you all the best.


	27. Think Warm Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time moves on Duro and Diona finally live their lives to the full in freedom with their family. Post Series-Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so here is the FINAL CHAPTER! Thank you all so much for your help in writing this fic. I can assure you I will not be gone from the wonderful fandom that is this show nor will I go from the fantastic pairing of Duro/Diona. I will be back but just after a little break. 
> 
> You all know my disclaimers so I wont bother to publish them here. Safe to say that nothing is mine. 
> 
> All headcannons for post series are my own.
> 
> Also spelling, language, grammar are not my strongest suit, you have been warned. 
> 
> Enjoy

They had settled down somewhere over the hills in a small town that was so hidden from the surrounding area that even Agron a man who worried about anything and everything concerning safety of the camp they had become could identify no concerns with this becoming their new home. There were a small cluster of residents that lived within that village but they were welcoming and they knew no love for the Romans. Added fighters, gladiators provided them with increased security and while they had not heard of Spartacus they heard rumours of a slave sending fear to the very heart of the Republic and their core values and that it seemed was enough for them to welcome stragglers of the rebellion with arms open and trusting.

Of course not all of them had come. Shortly after they had crested hills factions of rebels had broken off, some to find passage back home to the homeland they had been ripped from, some to go to the sea and try and find new ways to far from the shores of this place. Some Diona knew had gone back towards the fighting to see if they could find their loved ones or to join them in mission. She did not think about that.

They had never been joined by Naevia, or Gannicus, or Saxa, or the thousands of other rebels who had taken up arms against Rome in that last, mad battle that Duro would not speak about. Diona had on more than one occasion thought about sharing words with him about it but then she stopped. As Naevia had once said, men of blood and battle upon occasion deserved and desired to be left to their own devices.

They set up makeshift camp, her, the orphans, the children, Diana and her baby, Sibly, Belsa, Laeta, two gladiators still from the House of Bataitus who had followed Agron, Nasir…and then they set about to making their new home which reminded Diona of the days in the temple where she had sat and watched the rebels cut trees and use axes to make something of their small shelter and to provide protection in a way that the Roman’s had never devised.

Diona had spent much time with Malia whose stomach was developing and growing with each passing month. Whatever she and Luc had been too each other the woman never commented on it publicly referring her grief to her Gods. Henri spent more time with Freyja than she was personably comfortable with but she trusted her daughter to help the boy and she saw many a time over the fire the dark heads talking, sitting in comfortable silence or shooting arrows at tree trunks.

Annalise had been instrumental in helping the orphaned children confused and saddened. They had for a short time been part of something that had threatened to shake the very foundations of the world that they been forced to live in. They had seen the great man upon the hill, the god that had been Spartacus rise and then they had seen him fall proving mortality. They had lost Luc and Johann and they were saddened. However they recuperated in the way that children often did and soon they became friends with the children of the village and Diona could hear once more laughter of children born free and raised free of the Republic.

Annalise had put aside her ink and paper. What she had scribed during their rebellion Diona did not know thinking that it was good for the girl to have some privacy but one day as Duro was attempting to construct a roof on their modest house she noticed that Annalise was binding the collection of scrolls, scraps of parchment and books of smooth vallum that she had collected along the way and written in, wrapping them up in silk and then putting them into her chest where her meagre possessions were being held.

“Are you no longer scribing about rebellion?” Diona asked one day as the girl…no the woman she was now was cutting bread for the younger children.

“No. I am no longer part of rebellion, perhaps I will write again about my life at peace but…I have put all my thoughts and feelings over my old life away so that my children can read one day and understand. Now I start a new life, a clean life. As my father used to say when he made this gesture, everything new” and she raised a finger to make a circle. Diona smiled though she did not understand. She wanted to ask Annalise about her past but there was something so brittle about the smile on her face that Diona changed presence of mind. They had fought for many things during this rebellion, privacy was one of them.

“Things between Petyr and yourself are progressing” she said finally. Annalise’s smile became a lot more brighter and it lifted Diona’s heart to see her thus. But she would be remiss in her duties if she did not ensure Annalise’s protection and security.

“I trust that he is ensuring your comfort…and your consent?”

Brown eyes widened and looked at her in surprise. “We have not…we have not taken relationship beyond gentle kiss and hand holding. Petyr plans to build us home and then when we are married live together as man and wife. He is from lands where a woman and a man remain chaste until they are married in the eyes of their Gods. Besides, I do not mind waiting as such. I have had time to consider what my future holds and what I want.”

“And?”

“And I want him, I want him and children and a house and…and I would like to impart wisdom on my own children and others. Teach them to read and write and count numbers, I think I would be good at such thing…but…I confess Diona when we do get married I do not want children right away. I would like some time to be married couple before the blessing of a child joins us”

“There are ways to ensure that” Diona said grimly a lifetime of Lucretia’s belief that a slave should burden their master’s house with unwanted pregnancy rearing it’s head. “There are powders that can act as barrier for unwanted pregnancy. I can see that you can get them. But first he must ask you for your hand, unless he has done that already?”

Annalise laughed but shook her head. “No. I fear he wants everything to be ready before he makes move. But there is no rush. After all we have time now”

“Yes” Diona agreed looking at Duro who was chopping wood again.

Yes they had all the time the Gods had to give them.

Soon enough everything was ready and the house which had been nothing short of a dream was now her reality, the children had their own beds, rather than blankets on the floor and their own rooms, a lock was on her door and shutters on her windows and a table in which they could eat food. There was no bath, at least not a marble one that she had once wanted but she knew there was a oblong shaped object moulded out of steal deep and wide enough so that a grown man could sit comfortably up to his shoulders in with his legs stretched before him that the people of this town would sink into to bath themselves.

Perhaps all hope was not lost in that regard.

“Do you like it?” Duro asked something boyish in his tone that reminded Diona of the man that he was whenever he was not plagued by blood and battle and no longer burdened by the knowledge of certain death. Diona ran her fingers over the wood, saw the bed that she and her husband would slumber in safe in the knowledge that no Roman would ever darken their door again and that they would live peacefully far away from the Republic’s hungry gaze.

She turned on heal and reached for him, she curled hand around his face and pressed lips to his feeling the smile underneath the kiss. Duro hugged her tighter his hand coming to small of back and then lower but as much as Diona wanted to give over to carnal desires and see that every room in this house that belonged to them had been christened by them she knew there was no time nor point.

“Duro…” she said pulling back reluctantly even as he pressed open mouthed kisses to her neck that made her shiver with desire she felt would never fade from her very soul regardless of age or the slow march of time. But she knew what was coming around the corner. Actually she considered herself lucky once house had been built to get this shining moment.

“Children”

Duro groaned but grinned with a simple joy she had never seen in him before. Diona found self grinning back with the happiness she felt in the moment. It was infectious, it was easy, it was peaceful.

It was the start of their new life together.

And she could not have been more happier if the Gods themselves had rained down blessing upon the heavens.

There was always the promise of later.

Many years had passed since that moment when they had looked at each other and summed up their future in a house and two children. They never did get another, Diona had been correct in assuming she would never carry another but it had not been as bitter a pill to swallow as she had thought it would be. Once they stopped running, fleeing, fighting it was easier to focus on the children she had.

Freyja had grown beyond her wildest expectations, five years had passed and she was now a woman of sixteen years. Her hair was still long her eyes still dark and her tongue still likely to get her into trouble but the child of smoke and mud and dust was gone and the little girl with the bow had taken to walking to town events arm in arm with Henri who too had grown into the mantle of man with a gentleness that Diona had not expected. It seemed that one day he had simply woken up and she had found herself not looking down at him but looking up. He was tall and he mostly helped Agron at the small gladiator school he had begun to form helping the youngest children (like he had once been) pick up sword.

Cecelija too was now a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Her hair had grown too and her smile was free as was the fear gone from her eyes. She had put away her drawings of the rebellion but she was still finding time to draw this new life they were living and leading and she was (much to Duro’s disgust) drawing the attention of a dark eyed boy who caused daughter to blush and become unusually clumsy whenever he was in the vicinity which made Freyja laugh. The children she had given birth too and raised and loved despite all odds had now grown into strong powerful women untouched my rough hands and hot breath and crude intentions. It was still a thing that marvelled her to this day.

Malia had given birth to her son named Luc for his father and had just the last winter married. Her new husband Yanni was the local blacksmith and though shy in nature it was clear he adored new wife and stepson and the joy had come back into Malia’s face.

The younger orphans now grown were settled into house ran by Diana her child at her side. Annalise and Petyr were married and expecting their first child come summer. Sibyl unknowingly pregnant with Gannicus’s child had given birth to her son shortly after they had settled. The boy called Mikal was friends with Luc and the two went everywhere together. Sibyl had entered friendship of sorts with a local by the name of Mari who was gentle with her knowing intimately the time it took to move on from the wounding of your heart. Laeta too had found her happy ending having been married for three years now to the town elders son. He had three children already and Laeta was relishing being mother and wife and in position of power once more.

Agron and Nasir were still very much in love. There was nothing really that had changed between them unless you counted Agron discovering (much to his annoyance and Duro’s delight) that his hair was turning grey around the temples. He still could not lift sword but he had stopped agonising over decision and instead had turned attention to forming school for the residents of the town who wanted to learn how to fight, while the Romans were distant threat it would be foolish to ignore their existence entirely. Nasir meanwhile helped the medicus with whatever tasks were required and Diona who still enjoyed cup of wine on quiet nights with him (the presence of Naevia still sorely missed) thought it might be his true calling.

Nights like this, of simple peace where better than anything she had ever imagined gaining in this life.

But those were not the best nights.

No the nights that made her heart sing came when she locked the door behind her and her family, saw her children to their own bed with their possessions that they owned, with the bed covers that had been made and not stolen. Then she would put another log on the fire and then she and Duro would sensually undress each other and the girl who had dreamt of love, who’d had it ripped from her time and time again would hold her husband and be held by her husband and make love with her husband. It did not matter to him that time had given her an increased girth on her hips or that soon she feared she would run to fat. It did not matter to her as the dark hair got sprinklings of grey (though Duro was as sensitive as his brother in that regard) or that the hard muscles were softening a bit now that battles did not have to be waged.

This was peace.

This was love.

This was life.

This was still Duro and Diona.

And this was _everything_.

Diona turned a little as slumber took a deeper hold and Duro pressed her closer to him as his own lids grew heavy. Despite it all he liked to think that he was still the man who had grabbed the woman at risk of being trampled in mines, the man who had shifted in cramped space to provide child with protection. The man who had gone from arrogant boy to slave, to warrior, to father, to husband with little time between all acts.

“Gratitude. For loving me. For standing by me and children” Diona had said once, the day he did not recall but the words stuck within mind taking root. He did not recall his answer at the time but he thought perhaps he had the perfect answer should this woman, this perfect gift from the Gods to the truly undeserving asked him again.

“Wherever you and the children are—” he would say with a kiss and gentle smile, from now until the end of time, In war and peace. In a rebellion or in a home. Slave or free. “Is my home”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to you all who have commented and read this story. You have helped me along with this labour of love massively. I wish you all the health and happiness in the world. 
> 
> Thank You. 
> 
> Feedback is adored.

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is, I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> Feedback is adored.


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